For Your Introduction
by Starren Moonstone
Summary: This is the forth story in "Ties that Bind" series and comes after "Ich Bin Ich Selbst". This follows some of the shenanigans that take place before the nation party taking place in Switzerland. Though, as things are falling into place for a wonderful time, something troubling is stirring with concern to America's new found magical abilities.
1. Chapter 1

Switzerland was late, though Liechtenstein had been expecting that. He did say before that work was stressful with getting things ready for his new boss, Livio Alscher. Liechtenstein had yet to meet the man, however Switzerland seemed to like him well enough. That was an improvement from the last one, who he just tolerated. On that fact alone, Liechtenstein was rather excited to meet this new boss.

Liechtenstein glanced at the clock at the station, hoping that her brother would come soon. She had all the patience in the world; the train itself had none. A nearby train whistle sounded and it slowly slunk out of the station. Soon after, Liechtenstein heard running footsteps.

"I think we missed it…" this person said, a bit defeated. He definitely had the look of professionalism. His light brown hair was neatly combed back, and his business suit fit him perfectly. The only thing about him that was out of place was his face, and that was due to him being frazzled.

"Are you headed for France?" Liechtenstein asked.

"No…"

"Then you're ok. The train that left was heading for Paris."

The man sighed in relief. "Did you hear that…" He looked the way he came from, however the person he was referring to wasn't there. "Where did he go? Vash!"

"Lost your traveling companion?"

"It appears so. What about you? Are you traveling alone?"

"Oh, no, I'm waiting for my brother and his boss. When it comes to work related things, my brother tends to lose track of time."

"That's a shame." The man looked around the station again. "I'm Livio, by the way."

"Livio Alscher?"

"The same. May I ask for your name?"

"Lili. Funny enough, your friend and my brother are the same person."

Livio looked astounded. "I am so sorry we were late. Something came up at the last minute and Vash had to take care of it. I'm still not sure what happened, though. It was apparently very important and he seemed so flustered by it."

Liechtenstein pursed her lips. What could have her brother all flustered? There wasn't much that would get him riled up. It put her on edge, up until she saw Switzerland running up, holding a wrapped gift. And then, everything made sense.

"I'm sorry, Lili," Switzerland said quietly, handing the gift to Liechtenstein.

"What happened, Vash?" Liechtenstein asked. She already had an idea what was up, because there was only one time that Switzerland would be so apologetic.

Switzerland glanced over to Livio, and said, "My… friends… visited your place without asking." Of course, he didn't mean friends, but rather his soldiers.

"Again?" Liechtenstein asked, a bit of humor in her voice, "Do any of them know how to read a map?"

Switzerland sighed, and motioned the gift toward her. "Maybe I should hold a class."

"it certainly would help." Liechtenstein took the gift, if only to make her brother feel better. "Ready to leave?"

"Whenever the train gets here." Switzerland went off a bit away to look at the train schedual.

"Will you be joining us?" Livio asked, "I mean, for the party. I know we are going to the same place, but I was wondering if you were invited to this event as well."

Liechtenstein figured that Switzerland didn't say anything much about the party beforehand, just that it was a thing. "Indeed. I was one of the people who helped put it together." She leaned in a little closer to Livio. "Though, truth be told, I mostly joined so that my brother would allow it to happen."

Livio slowly turned, not exactly believing what he heard. "And why wouldn't he?"

"He doesn't trust Gilbert," Liechtenstein said with a bit of a sigh, "Gilbert was the one to bring up the idea for this party. He and Vash have a history… old habits die hard. My brother should really give Gilbert the benefit of the doubt."

"What did Gilbert do? I feel like I know Vash enough to know it must have been awful."

"It's not so much that… well, there are a few of us who don't trust each other based on past history. I think you'll understand why when you meet him yourself. He is a fun person, but can be a bit much, especially for Vash." At heart, Switzerland was an introvert.

"And what about you?"

"I can handle Gilbert." Liechtenstein smiled brightly. Despite being the young and innocent type, she can defend herself quite well. Not that it was needed very much.

Switzerland came back over. "Our train should be arriving soon," he said, "I'm glad we made it before it arrived."

"As am I," Liechtenstein agreed, "I will say, you had me worried for a bit."

"Say, on a different subject matter," Livio said, "This party is still a week off. So why are we headed to Lauterbrunnen so early?"

Switzerland pursed his lips.

"Vacation," Liechtenstein said simply, "There are many of our friends and acquaintances coming early as well so we can talk without work leering over our heads for once."

Livio nodded, not arguing with that. "It will be nice to talk without pretense."

Switzerland squinted at his sister.

"Relax," Liechtenstein said when the train finally pulled up and they headed onto it, "You're making me nervous. There's nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried."

"Brother, I know you as well as you know yourself. You are nervous. At least admit it to yourself."

Switzerland said nothing, and boarded the train. Liechtenstein knew that once the secret was out, her brother would be able to breathe again.

88888

Wy never liked depending on Australia for anything. Since the loss of the appeal, she had become very bitter towards him, even though he didn't have much to do with it. She knew this, yet her feelings remained. This particular instance, however, Wy had to talk to Australia. Not for herself, but for her brother, Hutt River. Recently, he became reclusive, and it had only gotten worse as time wore on.

Wy knocked on the door to Australia's office. He usually had the door opened, unless he was at a meeting. Honestly, Wy hoped he was at a meeting so she could disrupt it.

"Can I help you?" asked a rather timid individual. He had long black hair, tied back low, and he wore a colorful tie.

"Where's Kyle?" Wy asked pointedly.

"…who might you be?"

"Lindsay. Where is Kyle?"

The individual looked around the hallway. "And where are your parents?"

Wy gritted her teeth in her mouth. Every time she went to the government building, they always asked the same question. It was annoying. "Why does it matter? I'm looking for Kyle, and I can't find him anywhere. Where is he? Or better yet, where is Mr. Morrison?" At least he knew who she was and could assist a bit better.

"…Mr. Morrison left for the day already. And as for Kyle, he had to leave early. He got a call, saying he had to go look after one of his kids." This person's face fell slightly; not exactly a grimace, closer to a look of concern.

Wy tensed. Did… something new happen? "Where?" She figured he had to have gone over to the hospital. That was where Hutt River was, after all.

The individual just shrugged. "He didn't tell me. I'm new here, so I don't know these things."

Wy groaned. New people were the worst. She turned to leave the building.

"Wait! Did you really come here alone? How old are you?"

'Fourteen,' Wy thought. Not that this person would believe her. "Does it matter? I have to find Kyle, and since he's probably over at the hospital where Marvin is, that is where I have to go."

"That's a long way to travel on your own. At least let me give you a ride."

Wy didn't really like the sound of that. "What's your name?"

"You can call me Mr. Walker."

"Do you not have a first?"

"…Natnael."

Natnael Walker… that sounded familiar. "Are you the new boss?"

"… in a sense, yes. I'm not the Prime Minister, but I'm certainly helping running the country."

Wy remembered. This was the person who Australia was taking with him to the party and explaining the nation situation to. Wy wondered how someone so timid got into office. "Fine. But we got to go now."

"Lucky I was going to leave early anyway."

The ride to the hospital was an awkward one. Mostly because Natnael made it awkward. He tried making conversation about normal human girl things, which Wy wasn't about to lie about. She was more worried about Hutt River. She had every reason to be.

His boss had fallen ill and got sent to hospital a few days prior. Nothing about his condition was improving. Every day, without fail, Hutt River visited the hospital, making sure his boss was ok. Alone, which isn't good for anyone's well being. There was also something else that Wy hadn't exactly told anyone yet, and that was the fact that she kept popping into Hutt River's dreams. This was something that she never did before, and it was freaking both her and Hutt River out. They both agreed to not talk about it to Australia until they knew what was going on.

"Now… um…" Natnael said, trying once again to make conversation with Wy, "I know this is going to be an odd question, but… is Marvin really Kyle's kid?"

"More or less," Wy said, "Kyle looks after us so…" Wy shrugged. She never really had to think of it before. She thought of Australia more like an older brother than a father. He acted more like a brother than a father.

"So he's your father too?"

"Yeah…" It was weird to her calling him that.

"…can I ask who your mother is?"

"I don't have one."

"Oh… did she die or did she leave?"

Wy stared at Natnael with a face that read "Are you serious?". "She doesn't exsist."

Natnael stayed quiet after that; what exactly could a person rebuttal after a statement that strong?

The hospital itself was in the next town over. It was a rather large one, but Wy knew what she was doing. She had to visit it often enough in the recent days. Natnael escorted her; he insisted. Wy thought it was silly, but let him anyway. The waiting room was nearly empty, so Wy spotted Australia immediately. It was hard to blend in when he was wearing outback safari clothes. Next to him, with his head in his hands, was Hutt River, wearing his cape as per usual. Wy ran right over to Hutt River.

"Any change?" she asked immediately.

Hutt River didn't respond.

"Everything has been at a standstill," Australia said, standing up, "The doctors keep saying different things. I wish they would just stick with one story really. Hi, Natnael."

"What's going on, Kyle?" Natnael had a concerned look on his face.

"Well…" Australia took Natnael by the shoulders and they walked a bit away so that their conversation could be more private. Or maybe that Wy's conversation with Hutt River would be more private. Either way, Wy appreciated it. She took a seat next to Hutt River.

Hutt River looked over at Wy, and she got a glimpse at his face. His eyes were bloodshot. "You didn't have to come."

"I was going to come anyway. You are here way too often. And if nothing is changing, why waste your time?"

"Human bodies are fragile…" Hutt River said quietly, "Anything could happen and I want to be here when it does."

"Are they even letting you visit him?"

"Sometimes. I go in when the family isn't here."

Wy thought it made sense. Less questions that way. "But you still can't be here all the time."

Hutt River didn't say anything at first. He looked off to the distance "You don't get it."

"No, I really don't." Wy stood up. "And you certainly aren't explaining well."

Hutt River continued looking off into space.

Wy walked over to Australia. "That's a complicated story," Australia was saying slightly sheepishly.

"I really hope you aren't leaving me with him in that state," Wy said, "He needs to be somewhere other than here. And he won't listen to me."

Australia looked over to where Hutt River was sitting. "Marvin does listen to you. He's just going through a lot right now… Look, if you told him you needed him somewhere, I'm sure he'd help." Kyle winked. "He'd do anything for his little sister."

"Don't call me little. And I've told him he can't stay here."

"Offer an alternative… I know! An art project."

"Like a card?"

"More extensive than that. You want him out of here for a while, right?"

"Why not a scrapbook?" Natnael suggested, "I think it would be a nice gift for someone in hospital, and they do take some time to do right."

Wy thought about it. Natnael was right, and it would take some time to get good pictures. "I'll try it."

Australia smiled, and motioned for Hutt River to come over. "Why don't we go somewhere and do something fun? I'm leaving tomorrow, so it will be a while before we can do something like this together again."

"The trip won't be that long," Wy pointed out, "A week or so."

"You know what I mean." Australia messed up Wy's hair a bit. Truth be told, she didn't really mind when he did that. "Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow, Natnael?"

Natnael nodded. "It seems odd that it's so soon now."

"About time. I've been looking forward to this for a while. And the town we are going to is very pretty. A good vacation spot."

"If you like the cold," Hutt River said quietly.

88888

It wasn't very often that Quebec saw Canada completely frazzled. Not in recent history anyway. However, the past month or so had been a bit hectic for that nation. And the even bigger problem was the he wouldn't say why. What baffled Quebec even more was that America even came to visit, and that was when Canada got even worse.

"You really should take a deep breath," Quebec eventually said, taking Canada's wrists into his own hands.

Canada did so shakily. "I'm sorry."

"Will you at least tell me what is going on?"

"This party is a bit more stressful than I expected."

Quebec squinted. "Non. Réessayer."

"That's a long explanation."

"I'm sure you can simplify it."

"It's… Alfred. He's been acting weird lately."

"He's always weird. He's _the_ American. What's your point?"

Canada frowned. It wasn't something he did all that often. "He's been more stubborn than usual. And you know what he's like when he gets stubborn. This time around, this stubbornness is going to get someone hurt."

"Like himself?"

"Like someone uninvolved. He can get himself hurt, and it would probably do him some good. But… I don't like the idea of someone who has nothing to do with this getting hurt."

The PA system turned on and announced a flight leaving for Japan.

"I don't know what to do," Canada admitted, "And it seems that I'm the only one who can do something about it."

"You can always ask one of his states," Quebec suggested, "They tend to knock Alfred into some sense from the stories I get from Kitty." It was an unlikely friendship between Quebec and Maine. It started because they both knew French and could speak it to one another. And somehow, Quebec was very much charmed by Maine's stories of the random adventures she went on. He could listen to those stories all day.

"Especially Abigale…" Canada realized something, "Now there's an idea."

"So, are you ok now?"

Canada checked his phone. "Once Al tells me he actually got to the airport."

Quebec rolled his eyes. He looked back at the entrance to the airport as another announcement came on talking about how check in procedures should be done. Walking up the entrance way was Canada's new boss, Eva Reid. She wasn't exactly an uptight person, but whenever she walked or did anything, she did it with intention. Hence why she got elected. It was too early to get a reading on her, but Quebec hoped she would bring about some sort of productive change.

"Hello, Matthew," Eva said, coming right up to the two of them. She pulled back a rouge piece of auburn hair, and looked at Quebec for a moment. "And who might you be?"

"Laurent," Quebec introduced himself, "I was Matthew's ride."

Eva squinted curiously, "I've seen you before in the government office… You look familiar."

Quebec had to think whether or not he had been there recently. "Probably. That's the only place I could think of where you would have…"

Eva snapped her fingers, "Oh, I remember now. You were reading at the library to kids."

That was a thing that Quebec did on occasion. A direct way to give back to his people. "Right…"

"So you _did_ take my suggestion." Canada half smiled.

"I did…" Though truth be told, Quebec didn't really want to give Canada that credit. He never said anything about it to anyone just for that reason. He was annoyed that cat was out of the bag.

"I think it's a great thing to do. Don't be embarrassed by it. Your French is fantastic as well."

"I should hope so. It was my first language."

Eva blinked. "You speak English so well."

"Practice," was all Quebec would say on that matter.

Canada's phone buzzed, and Quebec dearly hoped that it was America so that Canada could calm down. "Owen fell into the Niagara River."

Quebec snorted and then broke out laughing. He wasn't the type to do that, however when it came to Ontario, all rules could be broken. "At the falls?"

"No, just past them."

"Shame." And then Quebec remembered that Eva was right there.

"That would be a bit dangerous if it was at the falls," Eva noted.

"Owen would be fine," Quebec assured her, "It would take a lot more than that to kill him."

"Please don't test it out."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Quebec had thought about it, however actually going through any of those plans would be a bit much.

Eva looked uncomfortable; Quebec wondered how much she would humor the idea once she knew they were all nations. Judging from her personality, he figured not that much. He looked at the time for a moment, and figured it would be a good idea to bow out before any more questions could be raised. "I should go…" Quebec turned to Canada, "Are you sure you are alright?"

Canada nodded. "I'll see you when I get back."

"I should hope so. I'm driving. Have a good trip, both of you." Quebec headed out, not looking forward to the journey ahead of him going back home. He could pester Ontario… it would be something to look forward to on the way home.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Here is the list of the nation human names that aren't cannon: Australia - Kyle, Wy - Lindsay, Hutt River - Marvin, Quebec - Laurent, Ontario - Owen

**Translation Note**: Réessayer - Try again (directly is retry).

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. This story, as stated in the summary, is mostly just shenanigans with a bunch of the different nations. Next week: We'll see what America is up to, and will check in with Kugelmugel. Until then.


	2. Chapter 2

America's internal clock was completely screwed from all the travel he had been doing over the past few months. It started with his trip to England's place, helping with England's whole overdose ordeal. Then he went over to Warsaw for the world meeting. Then, America went back to his place in Washington D. C. for maybe a week when he was called to go over to Illinois, which is in a different time zone mind you, because of trouble over there. Not that there was much he could do. It was mainly keeping an eye on Illinois and Michigan since recently the two of them were neck on neck… It was almost like dealing with New York and Massachusetts, except for the fact that Massachusetts was a wild spirit who could not be tamed easily. Then America went up to visit Canada, and once again changed time zones. It was short lived, and he was sent back to Washington D. C. After being home for a few weeks, America was called over to California because that state wanted some extra help with fire prevention planning. Plus, it gave America some time at the beach. Then, America took a plane from Nevada, picking up that state in the process, flew all the way to New York, picking up that state, and was now en route to Switzerland.

All he wanted was to just pass out, however sleep wasn't coming at all and it was putting America off. He could feel his magic wanting to go haywire, protected by the gloves Britannia gave him.

"You look like you are being slowly tortured," Nevada said, moving to look at America directly in the eyes. Nevada was an interesting soul for two accounts: one was that they were genderfluid and two was that they were a performer. New York was as well, but in a different way. New York could act; Nevada could perform. Both were formidable on a stage. In that current moment, Nevada's little pronoun pin was over in the "he" category, and sporting a flowery button up.

America groaned. He had been tortured before. This wasn't as physically bad, but it was mentally. It was the magic bit. He could feel it wanting to be free, and trying to drain him of any will to keep it under wraps. Not that any magic could happen with the gloves on… though America wondered vaguely if the gloves too had a limit.

"Considering how we all get along," New York said, not looking up from his laptop, "I'm surprised you don't feel that way all the time."

"We aren't always that bad," Nevada said, rolling his eyes.

"Not always, just most."

"You've been around Abigale too much. She is such a cynic."

"She is right though."

Nevada crossed his arms. "She can word it in a different way."

America looked at his gloves. They did not go with any of his outfits besides his bomber jacket, which he hadn't worn much after World War 2. It was in his closet back home. A part of him was tempted to wear it for the party, however both New York and Nevada said they had a better idea for his costume, and he let them decide.

"We still have a while before we land. You are allowed to sleep." Nevada said.

"I've been trying," America whined.

"You're about as bad as Joe, except you have no excuses." Nevada shook his head a little and grinned slightly.

New York pull out his headphones and pressed play on his laptop. America immediately recognized the song as a lulling remix of "Johnny Comes Marching Home Again". It was a song of homecoming and foretold bloodshed. Victories and losses. A bittersweet lullaby. America closed his eyes.

_He saw his brother pacing around an airport. His eyes were wide with panic and worry. America wondered what had gotten Canada all tense. Certainly not Gilbert. _

_"May I ask what is on your mind?" a nearby woman said. America didn't exactly recognize her, but he had a feeling he should know her identity._

_"Nothing." Canada sat down, still worried. His hands were clutching on his phone, that he was constantly checking. What was going on?_

_"Yes, because pacing is a normal thing for you." The woman said sarcastically. _

_"It's my brother. He is running late for his flight and he isn't answering my messages and I am worried something happened." America was absolutely confused. He had been flying for a while now. Though, they did take an earlier flight because it made more sense…_

America opened his eyes. Right, he had to text Canada that he made it on the plane ok. Well, more than ok, but he didn't want his brother worrying more than he should. Without too much thought, he picked up his phone, wrote a quick "don't-worry-about-me" text, and sent it. It took America a few moments, as he was trying to doze off again he realized that there was no way Canada was getting that text until they landed. Not only that, but Canada would be panicking the whole time, wondering if America actually made it on the flight.

"You ok, dude?" New York asked, looking up from his laptop.

"I forgot to text Matt." America said in a horrified tone.

"So?"

"He's going to think I missed the flight."

"He knows that you would be pleading him to wait for you, and we both know that."

America's phone dinged. "Good. See you in Switz." It took America a few moments to process that somehow Canada's text got to his phone even though it was on airplane mode.

"That was weird." New York had shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He eyed America's gloves confused.

88888

Germany, Italy, Gilbert, and Kugelmugel were some of the first nations to go over to Lauterbrunnen. Gilbert decided to go by his human name since that was what he was now. Human. Kugelmugel hadn't told anyone about it, but it deeply unsettled them. Not that there was anything wrong about being human, except that it was fleeting. They knew that fact well.

"We should be there soon," Gilbert said, getting up from his seat on the train, "Where did West go?"

Italy shrugged and Kugelmugel shook their head. "Walking?" Italy suggested.

"Ja, that sounds like him." Gilbert headed out the nearby door to grab Germany.

"You haven't drawn much today," Italy said, "I would think that you would be inspired by the countryside here."

Kugelmugel grimaced. They didn't want to talk about it.

Italy looked around the train, before pulling out a notebook of his own and drew a flower close to the bottom of the page. He shifted it over to Kugelmugel.

This was a game that Italy introduced to them. The rules were simple: you take turns drawing a scene, only one thing per turn. Kugelmugel picked up a pencil and drew a tree near the flower.

"Are you excited for the party?"

Kugelmugel shrugged. "I don't care for parties. They're loud."

"But you get to dance and be with your friends. I know that Lovino is bringing Seborga with him." Italy started drawing a little cottage. "And I think Sealand will be there too. I don't see Finland and Sweden leaving him alone."

It wasn't that Kugelmugel wasn't happy to know that they would have a few friends there. It wasn't that they weren't kind of excited for the party, if only to dress up in a costume. It was just this dread of what Gilbert was going through hanging around. Uncertain timing.

"Have you done karaoke?" Italy shifted the notebook back over to Kugelmugel.

"No… we don't do that kind of thing. We mostly talk about trying to be recognized nations." Kugelmugel drew a swing in the tree.

"You have to have fun once in a while. You all should go to the beach and relax. Or maybe take a trip to an art museum. Something fun." Italy quickly sketched a chest next to the cottage.

"I don't think Molossia would want to go to a museum." Kugelmugel wasn't sure what to draw next.

"You don't have to go to a museum. But you have to do something fun."

Kugelmugel looked out the window. They wanted to go exploring out in the countryside of Switzerland. It was a call to be out in the middle of living art.

"You all are still kids, micronations or not."

The word "kids" brought the rushing feeling of dread back into Kugelmugel's front mind, and they clenched their hands into fists. Were they still so young? Kugelmugel drew a grave.

Italy looked at the new drawing with some concern. "You don't feel like one?"

"…I don't know what is going on…"

"Well, you aren't the first." Italy drew a bouquet of flowers lying on the grave. "I know that there was one point in time where I had no idea what I was doing. This was while I was still living at Austria's place and my best friend disappeared. I was alone, and not sure what to do."

"What happened?"

"Well… I told Austria to back off, and I went home. He didn't really like that, and we fought a whole war over it. But… I felt like I was losing myself that whole time, up until the unification."

Kugelmugel looked down at the drawing, and started to add a person standing near the grave, a hand placed upon it. "So you think that maybe one day… I can be a nation too?"

Italy smiled, "Life is full of surprises."

Poland was waiting at the station to show them all the way to the hotel. It was greatly appreciated by Germany, who really didn't want to go wandering around the town just yet. Especially not with his brother leading the way.

The hotel was a rather homey feeling place. It looked nice, with a rustic theme all around. Carved wood was definitely a high art form, higher than ice sculpting only because wood didn't melt like ice did.

Speaking of which, in the lobby of the hotel, Kugelmugel immediately spotted Russia and his two sisters, Belarus and Ukraine. An overwhelming feeling of excitement filled up Kugelmugel, and they ran right over to Russia.

"Well, hello, Kugel," Russia said, smiling a little. He never smiled much, but when he did, it was always in a warm sort of way. "It is good to see you again."

"I have a name now," Kugelmugel said, beaming, "It's Malleri."

"That's a nice name. How did you find it?"

"Gilbert gave it to me."

Russia looked up; he and Gilbert looked at each other for a moment. There was history there, unspoken. Unsaid. "He's good at that sort of thing. Have you drawn anything new?"

Kugelmugel nodded, and proceeded to show off their latest works. It was a nice feeling sharing their passion with others. Russia would listen very well, and so would Gilbert. However, Italy was the best to talk to about art because he would talk about different techniques and how to do them. Kugelmugel never realized how amazing it was to talk with another artist about that craft.

Russia turned the notebook to the sketch of Gilbert playing a flute. "I didn't know he could play an instrument."

"He plays very well." Gilbert played the flute on a few other occasions after the bird funeral. The sound was very melancholy and Kugelmugel was drawn to that. However that sound brought back to the forefront the feelings of life, death, and purpose. It is a guttural feeling.

"Is everything alright?" Russia asked concerned.

Kugelmugel nodded.

"Even at home?"

"Yes. I'm living with Gilbert now. He's been looking into homeschooling me."

Russia raised an eyebrow. "Is Austria ok with it?"

Kugelmugel nodded. They really didn't want to talk about him.

"Hey," Gilbert walked over, "Want to come see the room?"

Kugelmugel nodded, closed up their notebook, then paused. "Can we do art later?"

Russia smiled, "It would be my pleasure."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Human names and the nation they correspond to that aren't apart of the cannon: Lex - New York, Lucky - Nevada, Abigale - Massachusetts, Joe - Molossia

Next week, we will have an adventure with Sealand, because he is a smol boi and a troublemaker by nature. Until then.


	3. Chapter 3

Sealand was very adept at running off without telling anyone that he did so. It started off as a way to get away from England, because he could be an ass. And then he discovered that exploring was fun, and continued doing so even when he moved to live with Sweden and Finland.

There was a certain thrill with being able to explore a new place all by himself. So when Sweden was distracted by Estonia on the way to the hotel, Sealand thought it would be a good time to get a look around Lauterbrunnen. It was all well and good, until Sealand slowly discovered he was lost. Completely. It got to the point where Sealand sat down on a nearby bench and put his head in his knees to think.

Tracing his footsteps weren't going to help, because there was no trail to trace back with. He could ask someone nearby for directions… it was the easiest solution if he could come across someone who knew English. It shouldn't be too bad… right? Sealand combed through all his options, and knew he would have to ask for directions. Well, there went his pride at being good at being self-oriented.

Sealand weaved through the streets of Lauterbrunnen to the point where he was running through, trying to find someone walking about. He eventually came out to a square where a fountain was located at the very center. There were three other people there. Hopeful, as long as they knew English and were good people. Sealand shook his head. He for once, was glad he looked like a child. People were more willing to help out someone young.

"Are you alright?" the woman of the group asked.

"I think I might be lost," Sealand said, hating he had to admit that out loud.

The man with short brown hair started looking around as the individual with long black hair asked, "Where are your parents?"

Sealand thought it was an odd question to ask, considering he just said he was lost. He shook his head.

"What's your name?"

"Peter." Finland made it very clear that he was to use his human name with humans. Sealand didn't like it. Finland also made it clear that was beside the point.

"Why don't you come with us, Peter?" the woman said, "We can get you to someone who can help you find your parents."

It then dawned on Sealand what the black-haired person meant. "I was over near the train station when I got lost… I know Papa was going to check in at the hotel here."

"Perfect. We were about to head over there ourselves."

"Were we?" the brown-haired man came back, asking.

The woman gave him a look that shut him up instantly.

"You know, I was always told that I shouldn't go off with strangers." Not that Sealand was really worried. He felt like these people wouldn't take advantage of a child. Usually, he would get some sort of gut feeling if a person would, and would know to stay very much away.

"It's ok. We're going to help you. My name is Eva. And these two are Livio and Natnael."

The four of them started heading off in a direction. Sealand figured the adults must know the way. Adults knew everything.

"So, where are you from, Peter?" Livio said, striking up conversation.

Sealand couldn't help but smile from ear to ear. He always loved it when people asked him that question. "I'm from Sealand!" And he was very proud of that fact.

Livio laughed out loud, which dampened Sealand's spirit a bit.

"It's true though."

Natnael looked thoughtful. "I think Kyle mentioned something about a Sealand once… rather recently too. It's not a nation really, but an old sea base."

"Sounds like you have a rather good imagination," Eva said in the way that all adults tone things when talking to a child. It was the main reason Sealand wanted to grow up. He didn't like that tone of non-belief.

"But Sealand is a nation." He himself was living proof of that fact.

"It would be a rather small nation if it were one. How many people can you really put on a sea base?"

"32. I counted." Even more if he secured lifeboats to the posts of the base.

"You've been there, then." Natnael didn't really phrase it like a question, even though it sounded like one.

"I live there… when I'm not with my parents."

It took a little bit to find the hotel. Turned out the humans Sealand found to guide him didn't know the town all that well either. However, Livio knew German, and thusly could get directions from the locals. Coming closer to the hotel, Sealand saw Finland come rushing out. He was in trouble.

"Tino!" Livio called out, running over to him.

Finland looked up from his phone, and immediately spotted Sealand. "Peter!" He ran right over to Sealand and gave him a hug. "I was so scared."

"I'm fine, Isa," Peter said, "I'm not a kid anymore." Though, he did feel a bit better being in his dad's arms.

"I'm just glad you're safe," Finland said quietly. He stood up and thanked Eva, Livio, and Natnael for looking after him. "I hope he wasn't too much of a bother. He can be a bit much at times."

"He wasn't a bother at all," Eva assured Finland, "Though he does have some imagination. He was saying he was from Sealand."

"And you sound like you don't believe him. Peter is very bad at lying. In any case, I was hoping to run into all three of you. Kyle, Vash, and Matthew have to talk with all of you over at Capsler Hall tomorrow morning. I'm sure they'll still tell you this, but just incase they don't."

"What about?" Livio asked.

"It has to do with the party," Finland said mysteriously, "Why don't we go upstairs, Peter?"

Sealand knew this was where he was going to get scolded.

88888

Finland brought Sealand to the room they were going to be staying at with Sweden. The entire time, Sealand looked embarrassed. This didn't surprise Finland at all. Sweden was just about to rush out of the room when Finland entered with Sealand in tow.

"I found him," Finland said, closing the door and trying not to collapse from relief of that fact.

"Good," Sweden said, looking over at Sealand.

The sailor boy looked as though he wanted to disappear.

Sweden walked over and knelt down so that he was eye level with Sealand. "Don't do that again," Sweden said calmly.

Sealand nodded and hugged his adopted father. After some time, the two pulled away from the family embrace and Sealand looked at Finland. "Are the others here too?"

Finland nodded. "Mathias, Lukas, and Emil are in the room next door, if you want to go say hello."

Sealand ran out of the room quickly. Finland shook his head, and couldn't help but smile. This was supposed to be a proper nation, and he was still such a child. "This doesn't give me confidence for the hearing," he told Sweden.

"He still has a few months."

Suddenly, Sealand screamed out in the hall. Finland ran out to find Denmark holding Sealand like a sack of potatoes in his arms. A flailing sack of potatoes.

"Uncle Denmark, get off!" Sealand groaned, mildly annoyed. He tried to wiggle out of the older nation's grasp. He absolutely looked like a cat trying to get out of a bathtub.

"Mathias, let him go," Finland said.

"What? I wanted to surprise him." Denmark looked at Sealand, "Aren't you surprised?" He started tickling Sealand, which of course made Sealand laugh.

The sailor nation finally got out of the ex-Viking's grasp and ran past Finland into his room.

Finland shook his head.

"Come on, it was all in good fun. But in all seriousness, we have to go find Lukas. He just kinda disappeared in thin air."

Finland looked back into his room. Sweden went to the newspaper he had brought with him from the train, and Sealand had claimed one of the beds. Suddenly, Norway appeared, a magic book in his hands. He claimed a seat at the table Sweden was also sitting at. Sweden glanced up, but wasn't entirely surprised by the magical entrance. Norway did this often enough that it wasn't that special anymore.

"I don't think we have to worry Lukas anymore," Finland said, inviting Denmark into the room.

"How's the party hall looking," Norway asked, closing his spell book and cracking his neck.

"We're getting there," Finland admitted, "New York is working with the equipment there. And we can get the decorations set up quicker now that everyone is starting to come in."

"Why is New York here?" Norway raised an eyebrow.

"He's in charge of the entertainment, so that we can have karaoke."

"Nice!" Denmark's face opened into a grand smile. He looked around, then at the door. "Hey, Luke, where's Emil?"

Norway glared at Denmark for a moment. "How many times have I told you not to call me Luke?" He looked at an empty space next to him and said, "Komme." His eyes glowed blue for a moment, and suddenly Iceland stood next to him.

Iceland blinked and took in his new surroundings for a moment before turning to Norway and saying, "Why did you do that?"

"Beats having to find you," Norway said passively.

Iceland didn't look at all impressed. "I was right next door," he mumbled.

Denmark wrapped an arm around Iceland and roughed up his hair. "You're here now, and that's what matters." He had a beaming grin on his face.

That did not perk up Iceland's mood in the slightest. He tried to push Denmark's arm off, however there was a considerable strength difference between the two and it turned into a wrestling match. Sealand was the only one really invested in it, after Denmark, who of course loved this sort of thing. Denmark turned the page in his book. Finland pulled a seat next to Sweden and put his head on his husband's shoulder.

"You still feel stressed," Norway pointed out, "If you need more help putting the party together, you can just ask."

"It's not that," Finland said, "It's about Peter and his trial… I don't know if he's ready."

"It's still months off."

"But he should be preparing for it now. Nothing I have said has really got him to think about what needs to be done for the trial."

Norway looked at Sweden. "Are you worried?"

Sweden nodded once, then looked down at Finland, "Didn't you say that England was coming soon?"

Finland's face fell to confusion. "Yes, he got here last night. Why?"

"You may want to talk to him about it."

"He's never wanted anything to do with Sealand though."

"He is going to have to."

Sweden was right. Regardless of the outcome of the trail, England would in one way or another recognize Sealand's nationhood. Maybe England could get Sealand out of the clouds…

88888

England waited at the train station trying his hardest not to look impatient. He would rather be enjoying the sights of this village than stand around a train station. But… America asked specifically for England to pick him up and show him around. He usually never did that with England. The Englishman wondered why.

"Yo, Iggy!" England half expected America to be the one speaking, but it was New York of all people, smiling and waving as he got off the train. "It's been a while."

"What are you doing here?" England asked, though it seemed obvious. This was America's plus one… except as America came out of the train, another person came with him. England recognized the state, but forgot the name.

"Working," New York said with a smile, "I'm going to be your DJ for the party. Someone finally saw my talents."

England looked at America. "Really?"

"Wasn't my idea," America shrugged, "But the more the merrier, right? And you remember Nevada, right?"

England vaguely remembered that state. He personally didn't have much interaction, but heard some stories. Apparently, Nevada was quite the performer who could possibly put New York to shame. "Vaguely…"

"That's a first," Nevada said. There was a circular pin with three different pronouns on it; currently, it was on the "he" section of the wheel. "Most people find me unforgettable. But I'll let it slide, seeing as you have had one hell of a year."

"It's much appreciated," England said, unenthused, "America… if we can…" He gestured to a more private part of the platform.

"Oh, yeah, you have to show us where the hotel is!" America wrapped an arm around England, beaming brightly.

England got out of America's grip and pushed him out of the train station; he only succeeded because America let him. "Why did you want me to come get you? And don't ignore the subject."

"Well, dude, you were here first. You know the town."

England knew he shouldn't have felt used, but he did. "Not really…"

New York and Nevada came out of the train station. They looked over at America and England, shared a look, and headed into town.

"Listen… I've heard from Matthew what happened when you visited him. Have you gotten control of your magic since then?" Since he didn't see any flying roof tiles, he figured that America must have gotten a handle on it.

"I've got it covered. It's all good."

England glared at America, and noticed the gloves. "And since when did you start wearing accessories?"

"How else am I supposed to control the magic?"

"By studying it. This," England grabbed America's wrist, "Is ignoring the issue. And believe me, magic does not like to be ignored."

America ripped his arm back from England. "Dude, it's fine. I got it under control."

England didn't believe it one bit. Suppression wasn't a good form of control. It usually lead to an explosion later on down the line. He just prayed that nothing would happen on this trip. That would suck.

"Arthur! Alfred!" France came sauntering over. He was in this stunning, modern cloak. A little dark compared to some of the colors that France usually liked wearing, but he was absolutely stylish. "About time you two got here."

"I've been here a while," England said, not at all impressed, "Thank you for noticing."

"I cannot help it if you stay in your hotel room all day. And Alfred, I thought you were coming tomorrow."

"Originally, yeah," America said, grateful to change the subject completely, "But Lex is DJing and needed to come to set up everything in advance. Plane-pool, ya know?"

France gave America an amused look. "Well, I am glad you came early. We can spend some more time exploring the village. There is a path that leads up to the waterfall."

"No way! Aw, I have to tell Matt. He'd love that." Without much of another word, America took off.

France sighed, "It's not easy wrangling him, is it?"

"You are telling me," England groaned, "What do you have to talk with him about?"

"Can't I not just spend time with him like normal people do?"

"It just… feels odd." England noticed France pouting and explained himself, "I'm not used to just talking with someone for the sake of talking. Usually, there is something that needs to be discussed or something I want. Talking for the sake of doing so seems… unproductive." He hated that he felt that way.

France could not help but laugh. "Then, mon cheri, let me help you live a little. After the past few months, I think you deserve that much."

England blinked at France. "Sweetheart?"

"Too much?" The Frenchman should have been twirling around a rose in his hand.

England thought about it. "No… not from you at least." He rather kind of liked it, though he had never admitted it to the Frenchman. For the longest time, England had a crush on France, however he had always put those feelings aside due to their rivalry. Over the years, he had forgotten those feelings were even there. However, recently, those feelings were bubbling back to the surface and England knew he had to come to terms with them.

"So, would you consider my offer again?"

"Don't push it, frog." England cursed himself for speaking without thinking. Of course he would reconsider the offer of going out with France, even if France was just joking.

"Just a thought." France didn't seem disappointed nor elated by this. He seemed to have expected it; then again, he had known England for a very long time.

England made a fist with his hand, then let it go. "Est-ce que tu m'aimes?" he asked France, "And I mean that seriously."

"Let me put it this way." France leaned in close to England to that their noses were nearly touching. "How long did it take you to realize that?"

"You are overly flirtatious with everyone," England pointed out. He backed away slightly, nervous from the close contact. He kind of liked it, but it was so sudden that he was startled a bit.

France smiled gently, "There are plenty of other ways to show someone you care. It wasn't "in your face" obvious since you made it clear you weren't in love with me."

England tapped his fingers on his arm. "I learned your bloody language, you git." Surely that had to mean something.

"Point taken," France said, shrugging. "What brings this on, though?"

England closed his eyes and thought for a moment. "While I was sorting through my memories, there were a few with you that I had forgotten. Despite all the times we went to war with each other, we shared… rather tender moments with one another. And if you were open, maybe we can see if there is anything there…"

"You did turn down a marriage proposal from me."

"First of all, that was your government's idea, not yours. And second, who proposes before any sort of dating?"

"Germany did."

"From what I heard, he also was following the advice of a rather poorly written book." England adjusted his collar. "So?"

France's playful face finally fell serious as he thought on what England was saying. "If this is what you want, Arthur, I would love to date you."

England wasn't sure how much he would regret speaking his feelings, however, since he was in the spirit of being vulnerable with people, he might as well be vulnerable with someone he actually cared for.

* * *

**Translation Notes: **Isa - dad, Est-ce que tu m'aimes - Do you love me?

**Author's Note: **I had read a head cannon that while France refuses to learn English, England did learn a bit of French and I thought that was rather interesting. That is this week's update. Next week, the bosses get the nation rundown.


	4. Chapter 4

New York wanted to go over to Capsler Hall first thing in the morning. Nevada still couldn't figure out if he was a morning person, or just was a functioning insomniac, because New York could stay up for hours on end. Morning people tend to fizzle out once the sun sets for the day. Nevada decided to accompany New York on a few accounts. The first was to catch up with the guy, since he was on the other side of the country most of the time. The second was that there wasn't anyone who had arrived that Nevada particularly knew. And since most people were bonding with already formed friendships and alliances, Nevada didn't want to intrude. Yet.

"Morning, Lucky… A lady today?" New York nodded at Nevada's pin.

Even though Nevada knew exactly what she was wearing, she still looked down anyway. The top she was wearing had lacy loose sleeves. "That's right. Don't think your luck is going to be any different."

"Please, I learned from the first time." New York took out his laptop and set it on the table in front of him.

Nevada took a proper look around the room. There was a grand stage, and a bunch of round tables with chairs littered around the ground. It could be easy to get all of that out of the way, and there would be plenty of room for dancing, a specialty of Nevada's. "What kind of songs do you have on that playlist of yours?"

"Well.. I have a few party favorites from all over the world. I've got 'Sweet Caroline' in here."

Nevada raised an eyebrow, "You forget that is an East Coast favorite. I don't care. Do you have Cotton-Eyed Joe?"

New York grinned and nodded. "I'm still trying to find other songs. I'll be asking around later, hoping to get a good amount so that I'm not searching the night of the party."

"So you can also participate?"

"Yep."

"Well, in that case, you will owe me a dance then."

New York bowed extensively. "Now, I hope this place is modern enough to have some sort of plug. Here, can you get out the projector?"

"Why is there a projector?"

"Photo slides. Poland is putting something together." New York shrugged, "So projector. I'll be back."

New York ran up to the stage and ducked around the curtains. Nevada made quick work getting the projector set and hooked it up to New York's laptop. She then noticed the picture on New York's laptop screen. It was a picture taken a few decades ago, when New York was hosting America's birthday party. Every year, all the states would get together on the fourth and would at the very least take a group photo together. Not that everyone liked it, but they still at least were a part of it.

"It's all hooked up!"

"Great! Give me a few seconds!"

Nevada pulled up a chair and lazily sat on it, her left arm resting on the back. This could either take a few seconds or a half-hour, and there was no way she could tell. If it was Montana, she would know it would be more than half an hour.

New York came running back out, with a long extension cord. "We might have to tape this to the ground… but…" He jammed it into the projector. "Now we turn it…" He stopped in mid-sentence. "There should be a red light on."

"Must not be plugged in properly," Nevada suggested.

"But…" New York groaned, and ran behind the stage again.

The door of Capsler Hall opened up and three people walk in. Nevada didn't recognize them, and assessed that these must be the new bosses. She had heard that they were getting the nation situation rundown that day. She mentally wished them luck. "'Morning," Nevada told them, waving a little, "The others should be here soon. I'm Lucky, by the way."

"Hey! Can you turn on the projector?" New York's voice yelled out.

Nevada looked at the projector. "Sure, when you get that thing plugged in."

"It still doesn't…. uuugggh, why the hell do plugs have switches over here?" Loud shuffling started coming from the stage area.

"What exactly are you doing?" the woman of the group asked. Nevada assumed this must be Eva, Canada's new boss. She took a seat at a nearby table.

"Lex is working on making sure the tech stuff is working for the party. Better to work out the kinks now than later."

"That's fair." The one with black hair said, joining Eva at the table. Introductions were given, where Nevada learned that the black haired individual was Natnael and the brown haired man was Livio. "Where are you and Lex from?"

"The US. I'm from Nevada, while Lex is a New Yorker."

"Born and raised." Lex appeared on stage suddenly. He had a smirk that beamed like the sun itself. "That should work now, right?" he asked Nevada.

The light that was off the entire time had finally lit red. Nevada pressed the power button and soon enough, the projector streamed out light. The picture on New York's computer was now on the wall.

"I'm surprised you still have this picture," Nevada remarked, looking at the picture again.

"It's a good picture."

"This year's was better. Kalani actually smiled." Hawaii was never a fan of the group pictures.

"Huston still hasn't sent it out yet."

Nevada grinned. Huston sent out the picture already, but she reckoned he was taking his sweet time sending it out to some states more than others.

"Work group picture?" Livio asked curiously.

"Family photo," Nevada corrected him, "We get together for Al's birthday every year and take a photo together. The person hosting has to take the photo or get a random person to take it. Easier said than done the last one."

"I never have a problem," Lex said.

"And neither do I, but do you remember the one year we were in North Carolina? He was so annoyed."

"Yeah, sure, but remember the jenky camera we had back then?"

"Yeah, and I still got someone to take it for us. Not that hard."

"You're special."

"I know that, but that's beside the point." Nevada grinned again.

"Maybe you two can answer a question for us," Livio said as he finally joined his other companions at the table. New York joined the three new bosses as well. "Have you ever heard of Sealand?"

Nevada raised an eyebrow. Most people usually wouldn't know of that micronation, much less go asking around about the place. It annoyed that personification immensely, based from what Molossia had told Nevada.

New York nodded, "Yeah, actually, I heard this really funny story about the kid from Matt once. What about him?" Apparently, he hadn't heard that the bosses hadn't had the nation talk. Or just forgot.

"Sealand is a place," Livio corrected, "Not a person?"

New York looked as though he regretted speaking. "Right," he said slowly and unconvincingly, "I totally thought you said something else. But yeah, I know the country."

"It's not really a country."

New York brushed the comment away with his hand, "We can argue semantics all day, and I would win because I do this all the time with my best friend. Your point?"

"Could a child really live on a sea base?"

"I take it you are talking about Peter? He doesn't actually live there right now, but he did at one point. He makes it sound easy."

"But how?" Eva stressed.

Nevada wanted to tell the story of how she survived living in an empty well for a few weeks before America came to save her. This was a long time ago, around when she was first brought into the union. However, that was to be a story for later.

New York shrugged, "But if you ask Peter, I'm sure he'll go on and on about it. His country, his passion to talk about."

Before anyone could ask any more questions, the door opened up again and Canada, Switzerland, and Australia walked in. Canada looked completely worried, Australia looked distracted, and Switzerland had an annoyed look on his face (however that was his per usual).

There was a moment where the three new nations looked at the two Americans, most likely debating what to do with them. "Lex, if you please?" Canada said.

"Yeah?" New York put his head in his right hand on the table.

"We need to talk to our bosses alone," Switzerland said, cutting the bullshit.

"You make it sound like I don't know what this is about. Besides, I've dealt with this talk enough. I join Al to a bunch of his down to earth talks."

Canada and Switzerland didn't look impressed in the slightest.

"Well, you're no fun."

Nevada rolled her eyes, picked New York up by the shoulders, and started pushing him out of the building. "Come on, we can annoy the shit out of Arthur if it makes you feel any better."

"I don't take as much pleasure from that as Abigale does, but sure. Why not?"

Once outside, Nevada said, "They're just nervous."

"We could have helped."

"Sure, we could, but they want to do it alone. Their loss."

"Why are you so easy going?"

Nevada half smiled. "Why do you take everything personally?"

88888

Switzerland didn't want to admit that he was freaking out. It took a lot of his patience to look cool, calm, and collected. It wouldn't have mattered so much had he not actually liked this boss. New blood, young blood.

"They were testing out the equipment," Livio said in the defense of the Americans.

"And they can continue when we are done," Switzerland said. He would have been mortified having the Americans stay. No, private was better. "But we need to talk alone and this is the best place to get privacy."

Once everyone was sitting at the table, Natnael asked Australia, "Are you actually going to explain how you, a 25 year old, are taking care of two kids? One of whom is a teenager?"

Livio and Eva looked between Natnael and Australia with high confusion. Even Switzerland was a bit confused, though he did hear Australia make mention of two micronations back in his country. Australia nodded, and then added, "But you have to hear the whole story out."

Natnael crossed his arms, and leaned back in his seat. "Please, enlighten us on this huge secret the three of you carry that we are now privy to."

"Well," Matthew said, trying to find the words as to where to begin. "We are the nations you three are from… personified."

There was a good few moments of silence. If it were a movie comedy, there would have been crickets chirping somewhere in the background.

"You're kidding." Livio was the first to speak.

"I think you know me enough to know I don't kid around," Switzerland said, "We are the will of the people, so to speak. They influence us."

"…does it work the other way around?" Natnael asked curiously. He out of the three of them was taking this the best. Switzerland assumed denial.

"Sometimes, I wish," Australia said, "It would make some things a non-issue."

"Why?" Livio asked directly to Switzerland, "How even? This seems impossible."

"There are a lot of things in this world that seem impossible," Switzerland said, "Airplanes are one of them, yet now we take them for granted."

"You don't know," Livio stated when he felt his question wasn't answered.

"No," Canada said, "But no one knows why they exist, so I think we are on the same page on that."

"So, have you been around since the country formed or…" Natnael let his sentence trail off.

"Longer, actually," Australia said, "I remember vaguely running around the Outback and seeing strangers come to the shores. It was after that I met England."

For the first time in a long time, Switzerland thought about his childhood. He would like to say he was always just Switzerland, but… he remembered a family once. An older sister who looked after him. He had a different name too. That was a life long past, and it wasn't ever his to live out.

"I don't remember much of mine," Canada admitted, "A kind face. The first real memory I have is when Francis found me."

"Oh, right," Australia remembered, "I forgot that you lived with him for a time."

"So every war, and every alliance are just fights and friendships you have with other countries?" Eva asked. She didn't look at all amused.

"More or less," Australia said, "And colonized countries just live in the house that belongs to the colonizer."

"Not all of them. Remember India?" Canada said.

"But India was well established by that point. We weren't."

Canada didn't look quite convinced of that, but let it go.

Eva sighed, stood up, and walked out of the building without another word. Canada stood up to go after her; Switzerland grabbed him by the arm before he got too far.

"I don't think there is anything you can say right now," Switzerland told Canada, "Let her think on it."

"Be glad there wasn't a gun involved," Australia said way too casually.

Both Livio and Natnael looked absolutely horrified. Even Switzerland felt a little wary. He had dealt with swords before, but those were easily parried. Canada, surprisingly, looked calm.

"This was a century ago," Australia assured the bosses, "And nothing came of it."

"That's better than what has happened with America in the past," Canada said.

Switzerland didn't even want to know. He certainly wasn't surprised that America's talks had excitement in them.

"Not that I don't want to not believe you," Livio said, "But… this is just…" He was having trouble finding the right words.

"I mean, you could just shoot one of us," Australia suggested, "We can heal very quickly."

"How about we not?" Canada said.

"Well… if you are the nations themselves," Natnael said, thinking about it, "Do you know what is going on there? Like, can you feel it when something bad happens?"

"…we do get sick when the economy is doing poorly," Canada said.

"And when there is a catastrophic event, like a volcano or an earthquake," Switzerland continued.

Natnael looked as though he was still searching for something. "What about the weather?"

"I will say that it won't rain until the evening today," Switzerland said, "But that is from immortal experience and not because I can feel the weather."

"So." Natnael turned to Livio. "If it rains this evening, will you take them all for their word?"

"So you believe us?" Australia said, perking up a bit.

Natnael nodded. "It helped a little seeing the two little ones you are looking after. Which reminds me, how is Marvin?"

Australia shook his head. "Same as he was when we left… but there is something else, that… well…" Australia waved a hand to bat the thought out of conscious thought, "It's something I have to talk to Dylan about later."

Switzerland couldn't care less about what that was all about. He was mostly just glad that at least one of the bosses believed the story. He was also sure that Livio would come around, especially once they started working together for real. Eva, on the other hand, needed a bit of work.

88888

Most of the time, Scotland left his magical friends in his own country, and visited them on occasion so that they wouldn't get lonely. There was only one true exception to the rule, and that was Nessie. Of all the magical creatures that Scotland had encountered over the centuries, Nessie was the only one to really grab his heart. The one odd thing about her was that human could see her. It got Nessie into trouble a few times in the past, but Scotland was always there to bail her out.

"Why the feck did you bring a fae creature along?" Ireland, who was not at all impressed by the turtlish-shaped creature nestled in Scotland's arm, asked. His arms were crossed over his chest to show his disapproval.

"Not all magical creatures are fae," Scotland said, "As you very well know. Nessie isn't a fae."

"Fine, but my question still stands. Why did you bring her along?"

Scotland let Nessie loose into the fountain. "She was feeling lonely."

Ireland didn't look impressed, but in Scotland's experience, he was rarely impressed by anything. "But people can see her. People are still talking about her existence."

"Yes, and if anyone sees her here, they'll just think she is a turtle. That's nothing too out of the ordinary."

"Turtles aren't wildly native here, especially not this time of year." Ireland looked over to Wales, who had been there the whole time, his focus on a book he was reading about the legends of King Arthur. "Dylan, help me out here."

Wales glanced between Ireland and Scotland, then went back to his book. "You do seem to be doing fine without me," he dismissed casually.

"But you have to admit this is irresponsible."

Wales looked over at Nessie, who was happily playing in the water. He shrugged, and once again went back to his book. "England has done worse."

Nessie swam over to Scotland and chirped for his attention. Scotland put a hand down and pet his friend gently. "I think you're just jealous you never got this friendly to a magical creature," he said, looking back at Ireland.

"That's not…" Ireland started saying, and then he saw Scotland's grin and stopped. "You don't really believe that."

"Maybe."

"Don't be coy. I just… Don't want to explain why we have a shell-less turtle with us."

"You don't have to do any of that talking then," Scotland said, "I know how to talk to people by myself just fine."

"I wasn't…"

"Seamus, really. Don't be so defensive. Even Dylan isn't that defensive and look at all the shit we did to him."

Wales did not acknowledge whether or not he heard. However a moment after, he did close his book, and stood up, looking around the courtyard. "We should be getting company," he said, "Might I make the suggestion as to finding a different place to wait for Spéir?"

Before any sort of plans could be made, a woman hurriedly walked into the courtyard and sat at the other edge of the fountain. She was fuming about something, Scotland was sure of that. She also looked vaguely familiar.

"Hey," Ireland leaned over to Wales, "Isn't that Matthew's new boss?"

Wales slowly nodded. "I was not expecting her."

"Who were you expecting?"

"Anyone but her."

Nessie, either not good at reading the mood, or being extremely good at figuring out what people needed, swam right over to Eva and nudged her in the arm. Eva was certainly startled, but at least she didn't scream out of fear. Scotland figured it was Nessie's charm.

"Sorry about that," Scotland walked over to Eva, and stroked the back of the creature's head, "Nessie doesn't get to see people all that often."

"Nessie?" Eva asked.

"That's her name. Cute, isn't it?" It was also not that creative of a name, considering where she is from.

"Not to sound rude, but what is she? She can't be a turtle. There's no shell."

Scotland considered the question because he himself never really thought about it. He just accepted that Nessie was Nessie, whatever she may be. She certainly was magical. "Dinosaur?" Scotland suggested, "I'm not really sure myself. She likes water and people. That's all I really know."

"Don't forget haggis," Wales added.

Eva cautiously offered her index finger to Nessie, who immediately guided it down her head like a cat. "Where did you find her?"

"In a lake. She scared the crap out of a few locals, even though she meant no harm. Things that people can't explain are always scary."

"How can something so small scare people?"

Scotland had a hard time keeping a somewhat straight face. "You'd be surprised."

"Oh, yes, a tiny turtle is the terror of an entire region." Ireland rolled his eyes at Scotland.

"Alright then, Seamus, how would you tell the tale then?"

"Certainly not like that. Wasn't someone killed?"

"You must be mistaking this with your leprechauns, Seamus. Nessie never hurt anyone."

"Then how do you explain that time we were up at the lake and nearly lost my leg?"

"You provoked her."

Ireland looked nearly offended. "Provoked?"

"Most creatures don't like being poked with a sword."

"That was a stick!"

Eva put herself in between Scotland and Ireland, hands up to keep them at bay from one another. "By any chance, did you find this creature up in Scotland? By Loch Ness?"

Scotland grinned. This woman was smart.

Eva looked back at Nessie, and then burst out in uncontrollable laughter. "The might Loch Ness monster can fit into a purse," she muttered once she could get control over her voice again.

"Pocket-sized for convenience," Wales suggested.

"How did any sort of story about a vicious monster come from something so small?"

"See, that's the thing," Scotland said, "Usually, she is much bigger."

All the color from Eva's face drained out, "You're kidding."

"We can't really have an elephant sized dinosaur looking creature riding the train, now can we?" Wales nearly shrugged.

Scotland snorted with laughter. "That would be really fucking funny though."

Eva looked dumbstruck. "How? If she is supposed to be so much bigger…" The wheels of thought were heavily spinning in Eva's mind.

"By any span of chance," Ireland said, breaking Eva's train of thought, "Did you get a chance to talk to Matthew about who he is?"

"You all know Matthew Williams?"

"Extended family, as it were."

Eva squinted slightly, "What of it?"

"Well, did you? The whole point of this whole party was to talk to you about it."

"How he is literally Canada? And how do you know about it?"

"As we said, we're family. We three are also nations. I am Wales. This is Ireland, and the red-head is Scotland. We all know who you are. Matthew has been nervous about this for weeks and, well, at least I have, been getting many calls about it."

Eva pursed her lips. She looked as though she didn't want to believe it. "You do understand how ridiculous it all sounds."

Scotland and Ireland shared a look. "There are certainly plenty of stories to be shared that will seem fantastical, and you'll only have to take the storyteller's word for it," Wales said.

"So… there isn't a possibility that this is just an elaborate prank?"

"No," Ireland said, "But, if it makes any difference, you aren't the first to not take our word for it."

"We've had prior bosses try to get professional help for us," Scotland said, "And there was one time where I had to critically injure myself to make a point."

"That seems extreme," Eva pointed out.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, especially during war time."

"Especially fighting England," Ireland added in.

"I've always gotten generals to believe be by giving them accurate weather predictions." Wales noticed Eva's confused face. "I have foresight."

The confusion didn't clear up for Eva. "What exactly is the point of us knowing this? It seems more of a hassle than it is worth."

"Well, it's to explain if anything weird happens," Scotland said, "With nation kind, things can happen depending on what pops up. And since we don't age, someone has to know that we are immortal and everything is fine."

"Also… it's so that maybe you would listen to Matthew. In a sense, he is the will of the people."

"I will keep that in mind."

Nessie cooed from the fountain, getting everyone's attention.

"I will say," Wales said, turning to Scotland, "I still can't believe you brought her."

"You bring Taliesin all the time."

"No one can see him."

"Taliesin?" Eva asked.

"Yes… the last of the great dragons. Or at least the last of the great dragons that wishes to be found. I am still of the mind there are more out there somewhere."

Ireland glanced at Wales' book. "You might be reading one too many tales again."

Wales raised an eyebrow. "Says the one who blames everything on the little people."

88888

Seborga enjoyed more than anything to be in the company of his friends. Even if they were confined to the hotel due to Sealand being grounded for a day because of his little disappearance. He couldn't put it into words. He wasn't sure if there were any words in any language for the feeling. It's a feeling of not being alone, but grander than that. Now, what would have made it even better was if the whole group was there, but that wasn't going to happen that trip. 'Oh well, there's always next time.'

Sealand groaned and flopped down so that his head rested on the seat of the couch he had perched himself on. He was taking the grounding the worst. "It's so boring being inside," Sealand whined.

"You are just sitting there," Kugelmugel pointed out.

"That's because there's nothing to do!"

"We could get you a coloring book," Seborga suggested, "I thing I saw one on sale while walking around the town."

"That doesn't count. I want to explore."

Kugelmugel put down their pencil and looked around the common room. "I've heard from Gilbert that in old buildings there are secret passages. Maybe there is one here that we can find."

Sealand immediately fumbled around to stand up on the floor. "Oh, maybe there's hidden treasure somewhere around here!"

"What kind of treasure could a small town even have?" Seborga asked, "There's no water… well, no water that boats from the ocean can come to harbor."

"Vikings!"

"Isn't that further up north?"

Sealand had to rethink that. "Maybe it was some secret king from a fairy kingdom."

Seborga thought that was ridiculous, but he also knew that Sealand believed that a lot of old legends existed. "Maybe. It certainly is more exciting than sitting on a couch."

"You should had bought that coloring book," Kugelmugel said, but they got up all the same, closing their sketch book and shoving it in their knapsack, "Maybe there are some paintings hidden around here."

"Yeah!" Sealand agreed enthusiastically, "Ones that haven't been seen in thousands of years."

Seborga vaguely wondered how long Switzerland had actually existed as the three of them started roaming the halls of the hotel. Sealand was pressing up against the wall, looking for hidden buttons, like they did in the movies. Kugelmugel seemed to just be taking everything in about the place, no doubt getting inspiration for a new art project. Seborga decided to look for anything out of the ordinary, like a random painting or a statue. Something that didn't quite belong.

Seborga suddenly hit the floor. It more shocked him than hurt him, since it was all of a sudden.

"You ok?" Sealand asked, offering a hand to his Italian-ish friend.

Seborga looked back, and just briefly noticed some golden wisps of something disappeared into the air. 'What was that?' Seborga wondered for a moment, then saw something else a little more exciting. A panel of wall opposite from where Sealand had been searching around, there was a slight indent. He scrambled up and pressed against the paneling, then pushed it to the side. There was a secret room there, completely surprising Seborga.

The three of them looked at the opening with fascinating awe. "What are we waiting for?" Sealand eventually said, "Let's go in!" He ducked in first.

Seborga let Kugelmugel crawl through next before heading in himself. The room was very small, but did have enough space for the three micronations to be in the room as well as an old chest. Seborga pulled out his phone to illuminate the room.

"How did pirates get here?" Sealand asked, going over to the chest.

Kugelmugel opened their sketch book and flipped through it until they got to a particular page and held it up. "This is unsettling…" Kugelmugel said, then fell silent. On the page was a nearly exact replica of the chest before the three of them.

"You already knew about this?" Seborga asked confused.

"No, I didn't. I was listening to Gilbert tell some of his tall tales and I got inspired to draw this. It's not from anything I've heard before."

Sealand opened the chest, and revealed that there wasn't anything inside. Not even a spider's web or dust to show age. Sealand crawled inside it, for no reason Seborga could think of except because the little nation could. "Have you ever been here before?"

Kugelmugel shook their head. "I've never even visited Switzerland."

Seborga poked at the box. It seemed real enough. "Maybe this is just a coincidence?" he suggested. Surely, that was all this was.

Kugelmugel frowned. "I don't believe in them."

"But they happen often enough."

"I don't believe in them. There is too much that happens for coincidences."

Sealand's phone started ringing. He looked at the caller id, then muted the phone. "Sasa is looking for me."

"We should probably make sure we can be seen," Seborga suggested, nudging his head to the door, "Not that this isn't fun."

Sealand poutily climbed out of the box, and the three of them clambered out into the hall. Before running off, Sealand wrote "Sealand was here" on the panel. "So we can find it later!" he shouted behind him as he quickly made his way back to the common room the three of them were in before.

"I hope he doesn't get grounded again," Seborga said.

Kugelmugel shrugged. "But we are kidnapping him tomorrow."

"Or maybe we can just tell his parents to lay off. I think we can at least convince Sweden."

Kugelmugel tilted their head. "Why him?"

"He's a really good listener. You know how much Finland can talk, and I bet you that Sweden remembers all of it."

It took a few moments of consideration from Kugelmugel for them to eventually agree to it. "Do you think he might know why a picture I drew actually exists?"

"As I said before, coincidence." Though, that time saying it, Seborga was less sure about it.

Kugelmugel kept twiddling their thumbs around as they and Sebora were looking for Sweden. Eventually, they said, "It still doesn't make much sense."

"It's not like it just magically appeared out of your head."

"It makes more sense than someone else coming up with the same design as I did."

Seborga let it go. Agree to disagree and whatnot. Maybe they _should_ ask Sweden about it. Or Romano. Romano knew a lot of stuff, though he didn't show off that part of himself very often. Seborga found that out while the two of them were going to the different cathedrals around Italy. He had his ear talked off about the history of all those different places. Which would have been boring, but Romano had a way to make anything he said interesting. His colorful use of words certainly helped.

"Seb…" Kugelmugel tugged on Seborga's sleeve.

"Yeah?" Seborga turned his head to look at Kugelmugel. They looked scared. _SLAM!_ Seborga crashed into a door that just opened up in his face. He accepted that the day was going to be filled with klutzy accidents.

"Oh, fuck," Romano said, for it was he who swung open the door. He noticed who he hit. "Mio Dio, what are you, an accident magnet?" Considering how many times Seborga kept tripping over his own feet on their little tour around Italy, it was surprising how Seborga didn't have more bruises.

Seborga shrugged awkwardly, and laughed sheepishly. "Just lucky, I guess."

Kugelmugel glared at Seborga's hands. "Not luck."

"What do you mean, not luck?" Seborga asked.

"You're hands glowed before the door opened."

"Ok… it's just.."

"Don't say it. It's not a coincidence. You made the door open with your glowing hands."

"Why would I want the door to open in my face?"

Romano rolled his eyes, and walked between the two of them. "What color was the glowing?"

"Pale gold."

"You believe them?" Seborga asked.

"Because I saw something similar when we were at the Basilica. You were complaining about how to get on and off the roof, and your hands started glowing and you suddenly tripped on a jutted roof tile that certainly wasn't poking out before." Romano frowned.

Seborga looked down at his hands. "Did I accidentally curse myself?"

"It's a weird ass curse if it is," Romano said.

Kugelmugel, who had been thinking that whole time, brought up, "England can use magic."

"So?"

"If it is a curse, he can take it away."

"Can't hurt to ask him," Romano said, "If you can pin him down to ask him."

Lightning flashed from the window outside, and the sky opened the floodgates to let loose pouring rain. Seborga looked through the window to find a few people running inside, completely soaked.

Romano shook his head before heading off to his destination. "They should have brought an umbrella. The sky was literally screaming rain all day."

"How did you know?" Kugelmugel asked impressed.

"When you are as old as I am, you pick up on a few things."

* * *

**Author's Note**: I do apologize for the late upload. My schedule got shifted and I'm trying to get adjusted to the change.  
There are reasons for what happened in the last part of this chapter, that will be explained later (I promise). But for next week, we have some more fun with the micronations, New York gets some dating advice, and Italy enjoys some time with Romano.


	5. Chapter 5

Kugelmugel wasn't much of a performer. They preferred staying in the audience and watching great people play a part to wow everyone. However, Sealand and Seborga insisted on a small performance when Kugelmugel casually mentioned they were learning to play the violin. How could they refuse? Besides the fact that they were still learning how to play all the notes... Kugelmugel made sure to make that fact perfectly clear to Sealand and Seborga.

"That doesn't matter!" Sealand insisted, "We want to hear you play."

"But it is going to be bad," Kugelmugel said looking around the café. The three of them decided to go outside for this considering Sealand was stuck inside for all of the prior day.

"Even better." Seborga propped his head on his fists on the table.

Kugelmugel took out Germany's violin and began prepping it. It was really nice of him to let them use it. Gilbert kept saying it was because Germany felt bad the instrument wasn't being used. They took Gilbert's word for it.

Sticking the violin under their chin, Kugelmugel picked up the bow and played a few notes they knew. It sounded fine enough; they had been working on getting the notes to not squeak when just getting them to sound. It didn't seem like much, but Seborga looked impressed.

"When did you start?" he asked when Kugelmugel finished.

"A few weeks ago."

"Can you play any songs yet?" Sealand asked excitedly.

Kugelmugel shook their head. "I… don't want to squeak…"

A familiar sigh came from relatively nearby, and Kugelmugel froze up. It was Austria, who had just come out of the café. He walked over. "That is an appreciative sentiment," he started, "However, squeaking is an inevitability, especially when playing a violin as a beginner."

There was something that Gilbert told Kugelmugel recently concerning Austria. Even though he looked like he always disapproved of everything and everyone, he did have his own way of caring, if you can read between the lines. Of course, Kugelmugel did tell Gilbert that they were terrible at doing so. That had not changed, however Kugelmugel did take a moment to really think about what Austria was saying. Everyone has trouble when first picking up an instrument. "Does this mean you too squeaked when you first learned?"

Austria looked very uncomfortable. "Yes," he said painfully, "No one can get better unless you mess up every now and again. It's a part of the learning process."

Kugelmugel looked at their violin. "There is a song I do know… I haven't played it yet."

"Play it!" Both Seborga and Sealand looked at Kugelmugel with excited eyes.

Austria sat down in a nearby seat, and motioned for Kugelmugel to play.

Taking a deep breath, the young micronation nestled the instrument underneath their chin and started playing "Hot Cross Buns". It was nowhere near perfect, because of how nervous Kugelmugel was, but they did finish the song. Sealand and Seborga gave Kugelmugel a resounding applause. As much as Kugelmugel didn't want to get approval from Austria for anything, they did look over his way.

"You could work on your technique a bit. Your posture is a bit poor, but all things considering," Austria leaned in a little, "Not bad for your first time."

Kugelmugel smiled a little. A compliment, no matter how small, was still a compliment.

"I know that we are not on the best of terms," Austria admitted, "However, if you want me to help you learn to play music, I don't mind giving lessons."

Kugelmugel frowned a little. "Why?"

Once again, Austria looked uncomfortable. "I want to make it up to you, for… not being there for you."

The young micronation thought about it for a few moments before saying, "January."

"What?"

"I'll tell you in January," Kugelmugel explained, "Maybe we can start the new year on a better foot."

Austria nodded, and went off on his way to a destination none of the micronations knew of. Part of Kugelmugel wanted to drop kick Austria into a different dimension, however, the other part of the micronation knew Austria was very good at music. One month should be plenty of time to ponder about it.

88888

New York scrolled through the list of songs he had saved to the party playlist. He had more than enough songs to last the night, and thought he had enough random songs stashed for karaoke purposes. He was pretty confident with the list, to the point where he wasn't exactly sure why he needed to look at it again.

A notification went off on New York's phone, revealing the picture of himself and Massachusetts at a baseball game and the fact that Pennsylvania was trying to contact him. With a heavy sigh, New York put his phone on silent and stowed it away to a place where he couldn't see it. He remembered why he was down.

Right before going on the trip, he had been planning on hanging out with Massachusetts. The two of them had set a date and everything. However, at the last minute, Massachusetts had to cancel. Something came up, though she didn't say what. As much as he told her that was fine and that there was always next time, he felt hurt. Completely. There had been a long line of trying to get time with Massachusetts and always something came along to ruin it. It wouldn't have been such a big deal… had it not been that New York was hoping to talk to Massachusetts about being more than just casual partners. Weird, he knew, especially with their people being each other's rivals. But… that was the charm of the relationship.

Sweden knocked on the door frame of the 2nd level common room. "I was wondering if you were still taking requests."

"Yeah, sure. What song do you want?"

Sweden sat down on the couch next to New York and handed him a piece of paper. Confused, New York opened it. "Olet Puolisoni Nyt" was written on the page.

"I don't think I've heard this one before." New York pulled up Youtube to go looking for the song.

"It's for Tino," Sweden explained, "Sometimes, it's easier to use other people's words."

"I find it harder," New York said, "It's never exactly right. And that's why I write my own plays." He started listening to the song. It was a nice song. Comforting.

"You are a man of many words. I am not surprised."

New York certainly didn't argue with that statement. He stared at the screen for a moment to get the translation for some of the lyrics before saying, "Hey, do you mind if I ask you for some relationship advice?"

"No, but why me?"

"Better than talking to Alfred about it. He's kinda useless for advice." And he certainly didn't want to talk to another state about it. He didn't want it to come back to bite him in the ass later down the road.

Sweden nodded.

New York thought about how he was going to introduce the topic. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone before. "How can you tell if someone is getting tired of you?"

"In what way?" Sweden asked cautiously.

"As a partner… Abigale has been seeing me less and less, and I have been trying to get together with her, but she's always busy. And, like, fine, I can respect that… but…"

"…are you officially dating?"

"No… it's an understood arrangement. I think most everyone we know would flip out over us dating for real…" It certainly would be the only thing all the states would be talking about at the next 4th of July party.

"Do you want it to be official?"

New York slowly nodded. It was something he really wanted, but didn't have enough nerve to do himself. And, since Massachusetts was such a bold headed woman, he always thought that if she wanted to be in a relationship with him, she would be the one to ask.

"You should tell her then. The worst she can say is no."

"It's just…" New York stopped himself. Sweden was right. The worst Massachusetts could do is say no, and everything stayed the same. New York would even know to move on and date someone else, even if he didn't like the thought of it. "Nevermind. Thanks."

Sweden nodded.

New York put his song in the playlist. "I'll be sure to play it."

Sweden thanked him gratefully.

88888

"What's wrong, Lovi?" Italy asked his brother as the two of them were walking around the village. "What's put you off today? You sounded fine this morning."

"It's Antonio," Romano said annoyed, "He's been kinda a pain in the ass after the accident. Why the hell did you have to stay at the potato bastard's place for so long?"

Italy played around with the prayer beads in his pocket. He was grateful that Germany told him to take them back. "I wanted to visit Ludwig."

"Even though we were all going to be here in a few weeks anyway? Couldn't you have waited?"

"Maybe, but I'm glad I didn't. We finally decided to date." Italy couldn't help but smile.

"How is it that he puts stars in your eyes? For real."

Italy shrugged, "The same way Antonio does for you."

"…when he isn't being annoying."

"You should tell him that."

"But then he'll get all sad and I'll feel guilty."

"And avoiding doesn't make you feel guilty?"

Romano grumbled something, but it wasn't all that audible.

Italy looked around the village. It was a quaint little place and it reminded him vaguely of some of the places he visited when trying to go back home escorted by Holy Roman Empire. It had that old feeling. "What exactly has Antonio been doing?" Italy asked, "Surely it can't be anything new."

"He's been hovering over me like a hawk."

Italy giggled, "You make it sound like you weren't doing the same thing when Antonio came out of his coma."

Romano made to object, but realized his brother was correct. "It's just… I'm fine."

"And you don't think it's kind of romantic that he's being protective of you?"

Before Romano could respond, the two of them turned the corner, where Spain was sitting down on a bench. Though, it took them both a few moments to realize it was Spain because he was completely covered in turtles.

"Lovi!" Spain exclaimed with excitement. He got up and ran over to the grumpy Italian, giving him a giant hug. It hurt like hell because Romano was pelted by turtle shells. Those were hard things to be pelted with. Though, undoubtedly, Romano would be just as annoyed if they were teddy bears.

"What the fuck are you doing, bastiardo?" Romano said, wrestling out of Spain's grasp unsuccessfully, "And why the fuck are you covered in fucking turtles again?"

"You know turtles love me," Spain said, shrugging nonchalantly and smiling in that carefree smile he always gave.

"That doesn't mean you have to play turtle whisperer wherever you go. They make your hugs suck." Romano stopped trying to push Spain away, however, he did move to pick off turtles.

"I'll leave you two love birds alone," Italy said, bowing out in the hopes to catch Germany and drag him to a romantic spot. He could hear Romano make objections, which Italy ignored. Romano wanted to be a love bird, he just didn't want to be called one.

Italy found Germany in the hotel, working on paperwork in his room. He looked a little worn out.

"How much stuff did your boss give you?" Italy asked.

"Not that much. I just can't focus well on it."

Italy plopped himself on the bed, kicking his feet in the air. The tapping of the keyboard was a rather relaxing, though slightly boring sound. "I've always liked your human name," he eventually said, breaking the silence. "It sounds like you."

Germany stopped his work and turned to look at Italy. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, Ludwig is a serious sounding name, but it's also fun to say!"

Germany blushed lightly and went back to the screen. "I guess you're right. I never really thought about it too much."

"…you pulled that name out of your ass, didn't you?"

"Please don't put it like that."

"But you did."

"I did… It's just that I needed a name to give Gilbert to call me, and Ludwig was the first one out of my mouth. It's just lucky that it suit so well… that reminds me."

Italy raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to talk to your brother about us."

"Good luck with that. He still wants to rip your guts out."

"I thought you told him."

"You underestimate his hatred of you."

Germany sighed through his nose. "I would like to clear the air with him. Completely."

"Oh, so you are telling him you are Holy Roman Empire."

"Yes."

"Also good luck with that. You may want to bring a knife."

"I'm not doing to do that."

"Or at least a bullet proof vest."

"We're going to a restaurant. We'll be in public. What's the worst that could happen?"

Italy contemplated a few stories to tell Germany, horror stories about his adventures with an angry Romano. Fights had broken out in the past. A random bystander did get hurt at least once. However, the conversation was going to have to happen at some point. Better sooner rather than later. Better to get everything out in the open. "Just be careful."

"Even though I am the careful one." Germany raised an eyebrow.

Italy smiled. "You know what I mean."

* * *

**Author's Note**: I do apologize for the week disappearance. Last week was hectic and there was a short story I was trying to get done before I could do anything else (said short story might get published sometime next year, long story short, it's for a character I'm going to be playing in a friend's Ravnica D&D game) (has excited stars in eyes). Next week, I'm going to post up the next chapter on either Saturday or Sunday (depends when I get home on Saturday). Preview for the next chapter: Nevada gives dancing lessons and some nations talk about their experiences with the Olympics.


	6. Chapter 6

"So… just putting it out there," Livio was saying to Nevada, "And I'm still trying to understand this, but, since you are the personification of a place well known for gambling… does that mean you like gambling?"

Nevada grinned, "That's a good way of asking if I have a gambling problem."

"I am not insinuating…"

"I know, I know, calm down." Nevada and Livio were sitting in a square in town, enjoying the outdoors of the place. The fresh air felt amazing, even if it was slightly bitter from winter chill. "That was more of a personal joke for myself. I had a governor who was highly concerned about that." Nevada shook his head. "No, but I will say that I know how to gamble very well. I'm certainly in Las Vegas often enough to know the ins and outs of how to win."

"If you don't have a gambling problem, how?"

"I watch. A lot of gambling with other people is being able to read faces and a room. Something that happens to be rather useful in any sort of situation. If you know how to control a room, you can get what you want. Plus, I am also a damn good performer."

"So be wary of you, right."

"Don't worry, you won't see me very much unless you want to. I'm not dangerous. Alfred, on the other hand, you will probably hear a lot about. He makes himself known."

"He seems likable enough."

Nevada throws a hand up. "Let's see if it stays that way. I know a bunch of people who find him annoying."

"And you?"

"We get along just fine. He invited me along on this trip, after all."

"Hey, Lucky!" New York appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. "Can I interest you in a bet?"

"You play with fire, Yankee," Nevada grinned, "What kind of bet?"

"So, I heard from Feliciano that his brother is not having fun on this trip at all."

"So?"

"I bet you can't get him to dance."

"That's not much of a bet. It'll be easy. He's an Italian."

New York extended a hand.

"Ok, but I'll raise you that I can get him to dance with Antonio… just to make this interesting. Meet us at the hall."

Just outside the hall were Sealand, Kugelmugel, and Seborga. They were walking and talking and Nevada knew this bet was just a walk in the park. How can anyone say no to dancing when you get kids involved? After a personal moment's consideration, Nevada moved the marker on the pin to "her". Gotta love it when pronouns change in the middle of the day.

"Hey!" Nevada got the attention of the three micronations, "Want learn how to tango?"

"Sure!" Of course Sealand would be the first to do anything.

"Why?" Kugelmugel asked confused.

"Because it's fun. And you should be good at it," Nevada told Seborga.

"Why me?"

"Italian flair."

Seborga laughed nervously. When he was asked about it, he said, "Well, I'm not really good at being charming. I try, but most people just find it cute rather than alluring."

"Confidence goes a long way. Now." Nevada took out a portable speaker and made sure her phone was connected to it. She started playing a mix of different tango instrumental songs. "We'll start easy. Sebastian." She got Seborga into a dancing position, arms up. "Forward three, and to the right. Start with the left foot."

Seborga was a bit slow at first; Nevada chalked it up to nervousness about stepping on someone else's toes. He did get the hang of it fairly quickly, and Nevada introduced quick and slow step.

"You're very good," Livio commented when Seborga opted to take a small break. "Do you dance often?"

"Not really," Seborga

"Honestly, you should," Nevada said, "Everyone should have a hobby."

"I want to try now!" Sealand said, raising his hand.

Nevada paired up Sealand with Kugelmugel, seeing as the two of them were about the same height. Those two micronations had terrible co-ordination, but they were having fun and that was what mattered in the end. At some point, Seborga got Livio to dance with him.

"And look who I found!" New York finally caught up, bringing Romano in toe. He didn't look too impressed to be there.

"Oh good, you can show these kids a thing or two," Nevada grinned.

"About what?" Romano raised an eyebrow.

"Dancing. I know that you can."

"So?"

Sealand, Kugelmugel, and Seborga all rushed to a nearby bench, clearing a sort of dance floor for the demonstration. They all looked at him with puppy-dog eyes.

Romano rolled his eyes. "Ok, fine."

Nevada held out a hand. "You lead."

New York changed the song to "Kiss of Fire". Nevada knew that Romano was a great dancer. She still wasn't sure of the exact reason why, however, she had a theory that it was because of Spain. Nevada had heard stories from Florida and Texas about how good of a dancer Spain was, and since everyone knew that Romano had a crush on the guy, she could put two and two together.

"Now, what's going on over here?" The man of the hour finally arrived. Spain wasn't wearing anything special, not that he really had to. He was one of those people who looked great no matter what he wore.

"Oh, good," Nevada gracefully slipped herself from Romano's arms and shoved Spain in them, "You can have the dance now."

Romano and Spain looked at each other for a few moments, making Nevada wonder what they were waiting for. She then reminded herself that they were just a pair of dorks. Romano squinted his eyes, and once again, took the dancing lead.

"How?" New York shuffled over the Nevada, whispered, and handed over the twenty bucks.

"It's called confidence, Lex. I thought you knew how to use yours."

"I do, but not like that."

"Right, you just talk at people without care of whether or not they want to listen."

"Hey!" New York exclaimed miffed.

"You know I'm right."

"Yeah, but you don't have to put it that way."

Nevada shrugged. She knew that if Massachusetts pointed it out, New York wouldn't have argued against it. The bonus of being neighbors.

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"This whole personified nations thing does put a new light on the Olympics," Eva was saying as she was looking through an album Switzerland had brought with him. That particular one had some of the highlights of the modern Olympics. He had brought it out to share with Eva and Natnael when they started asking questions.

"The cold war years were some of the worst," Canada said, "At every meeting, it was Alfred and Ivan jumping down each other's throats."

"It still is," Switzerland glanced over at Russia, who had just come back into the hotel lobby.

"It's mostly Alfred starting up all the arguments now," Russia said, taking a seat, "I would like to stay quiet for once in the meetings, but Alfred likes pulling me into the discussions. It's rather hard to sit there and be quiet when you are being insulted."

"But you egg him on," Canada said, "I learned a long time ago that you don't fuel whatever fire is under Alfred's ass. He usually fizzles himself out after a while."

"In what universe?" Switzerland raised an eyebrow.

"That explains a lot," Russia said. When Switzerland gave him a confused look, Russia explained, "The cold war fizzled out after a while."

"I wasn't aware it ever ended."

Natnael flipped the page of the album, where there were a few pictures of hockey games. "Is this really you, Matthew?" Natnael pointed to one of the pictures, where Canada had his war face on while guarding the net. "You look terrifying."

"Oh, he definitely is a force to be reckoned with on the ice," Russia agreed, "The only game I know he will always win hands down."

"Considering that Al has to borrow some of my players in order to stand a chance in the ring against me," Canada sheepishly smiled, looking a lot more innocent that he actually was at that moment.

"By the way," Russia said, turning to Canada, "I keep hearing from Iryna and Lili that the view from the waterfall."

"Yeah, it really is nice. Gilbert and I went up there yesterday. It's really peaceful up there."

"Will you show me?"

"Oh, um, sure." There had been times in the past where Russia asked to go on trips. Canada always thought there was some sort of intent, until France told him Russia was just looking for friends. Since then, Canada had left Russia the benefit of the doubt. "I don't have any plans."

That made Russia smile, and in the not forced kind of way.

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England wasn't sure how he got into the situation he was finding himself in. He never played cards, yet there he was with a hand full of cards playing against New York and Ireland. He knew for a fact that he wasn't going to win any of these games. New York and Ireland would never let him.

New York had his game face on the entire time. It was a smug-ass grin that normally could be easily read through by someone like Wales, except that he had the same expression all game. It certainly was a poker face. Ireland also had a poker face on, except it was his usual face of annoyance. England was pretty sure he also looked very annoyed. He didn't sign up for poker when New York asked if he wanted to play a game. England was thinking of like go fish or old maid. Something simple.

"I'm surprised you're still playing," Ireland said, looking at England.

"I'm surprised I'm playing at all. Why do you ask?"

"You always find a way out of things you don't tend to like."

"Not all the time," New York said, his grin still ever present, "We made sure his life was a living hell during the revolution."

"Yes, thanks for that," England said dully.

"And India made sure you knew how much your influence was welcomed. And…"

"You really don't have to go through a list. I get it." England really didn't want to relive all his ventures in one sitting. He already went through that the past year; he wanted to take at least a year break from that sort of introspection.

"Well, I'll start," New York said, putting down his cards and his grin turned a little more natural. "Straight flush."

Both Ireland and England put their cards down in defeat. "I only had a full house," Ireland groaned.

England did a lot worse. He only had one pair.

"That means I won then!" New York crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Truly a winning position. Once again, England wondered why he was playing poker. It wasn't like he could ever win the game anyway. "Another round?" New York asked, collecting the cards.

"I'll pass," Ireland said, "After losing three in a row, I think it's safe to say my luck has run out." It wasn't like Ireland was particularly luck obsessive, at least England didn't think so.

"You've never let that stop you before," New York, once again sporting a grin that acted more as a mask than a true emotion.

"Some people do learn from their mistakes, Lex."

Before anything else could be said, the door opened and Sealand came running in. "We have a question for you!" he said, running right up to England.

"First of all, there is a thing called personal space." England frowned at Sealand. "What is it? Who is we?"

As if right on cue, Kugelmugel and Seborga came running in afterward. The two of them looked worried. "Sealand," Kugelmugel said in a way that reminded England of Canada whenever America came running in with a dumb idea: apprehensive of how England was going to react.

"Really, it's just coincidence," Seborga said. Kugelmugel scowled at him.

"Well, no it's not," Sealand pouted, "I know what magic is, and Britain knows it more than everyone else."

"Peter, Britain doesn't exist anymore," England glared at the young micronation. Then he actually heard what Sealand was talking about. "What is this about magic?"

"We keep finding things that I had sketched in my book…" Kugelmugel said, and pulled out a coin with a star shaped hole in the middle.

Ireland was instantly interested. He asked to see the coin to take a closer look at it. "Item creation is an interesting magic. I remember America being able to do it with some ease."

England was going to contradict the statement, but then remembered one day when Canada's favorite stuffed toy got stolen by some fae. America felt so bad for Canada, and was able to create a new one from seemingly nowhere. "Yes… though, this is the first time that I have seen magic from someone outside of the family."

"It's not just them either." Sealand pointed towards Seborga. "He keeps tripping and falling over nothing."

"So? I'm a klutz. I get that from Veneziano."

England walked right up to Seborga and casted an identification spell. "It's not being a klutz. You have a specialty in luck magic and just have no idea how to use it…" He was still reeling. How was it that two micronations of all beings had these abilities? England never came across magic that wasn't in some way Celtic related… He remembered what Spain told him a few weeks ago as they were trying to sort out their respective histories. That when Spain was in the Americas for the first time, he came across some of the indigenous people and a few of them had magical ability. Maybe… magic wasn't as rare as he originally thought. But why of all times was it waking was something England didn't know. An omen of things to come, perhaps. "When did this start?"

"A few weeks ago, I think," Seborga said, "That was when the klutziness got really bad." Seborga looked as though he was going to continue, possibly to explain why, but he grew quiet and looked nearly guilty.

"What about you, Kugel?"

"I didn't know I could do this until yesterday."

"And it's only from your notebook?"

Kugelmugel nodded.

"Huh," New York seemed curious, his head propped in one of his hands looking intently at the scene, "Abby said something about there being a shift."

"Like what?" Ireland asked.

New York shrugged. "Didn't really specify. Just like a magic balance shift that she hadn't felt in a while. Last time there was something like this, it was during World War 2."

"Do you think Dylan knows?" England asked Ireland.

"Well, I certainly would want to him to know," Ireland said, "He hasn't talked about it, but you know how quiet he can be."

England nodded in agreement.

"So?" Sealand looked at England excitedly.

"You two are going to have to train a little if only to control your magic," England said, "It's not… well, tripping over yourself constantly is a bit of an issue. It's still not as bad as some people." America's explosive uncontrolled magic came directly to mind.

"I don't even know how I'm doing it," Kugelmugel said, looking down at their hands.

"Well, I can only assume that you have a special pencil or pen that you always use that is acting as a sort of wand in this case. Until you get a handle on your magic, you may want to not use it."

Kugelmugel pouted.

"It's a suggestion if you don't want random events occurring. Be mindful." England took a deep breath. "I'll have to talk with your guardians, but to start with at least is learn how to breathe properly. Untrained magic is very much connected to emotions, so if you can control a bit of that, it will help."

"And how exactly does breathing help?" Seborga wondered out loud.

"It's a universal way to clear your head." England worked with the two micronations for a while on proper breathing techniques. The whole time, he was reminded of when he was younger and his own magic was running out of control. Wales taught him first how to breath and get a good look at the situation playing out before taking action. That had saved England's life plenty of times in the past. If he could get these two younger nations to do so, it would make a world of a difference moving forward.

When the short lesson was done, the three micronations thanked England and ran off on another adventure. England only hoped it wasn't trouble-inducing. "I find it a bit odd," Ireland said, "That Sealand doesn't show any signs of magic use. I would think out of all of them, he would the most."

England thought it was weird as well. "If he doesn't, I think the world is a little safer for it."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Due to the holidays coming up as well as some projects I am gearing up for, I will be putting this work on a bit of a hiatus so I can get the chapters written and properly edited. I will post more of the story on January 1st. I don't like doing this in the middle of a story, however I feel it is best so I can give you all a good story. For me as a writer, that takes precedence. In the next chapter: Germany will be talking to Romano, Russia and Canada go on the adventure to the waterfall with a very special guest, and Finland has a talk to England about Sealand. I hope you all have safe and pleasant holidays and I will see you all in the new year.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note**: Happy New Year everyone! Hope the first day of 2020 has treated you well thus far and that good things come your way.

* * *

Even with all of the meditating and running through what he was going to say to Romano, Germany was still nervous about telling him about Holy Roman Empire. However, he also knew that if he wanted to survive the party, he would have to come clean about it. As much as he didn't want to be in a room alone with Romano, he was also very glad that no one else would be part of this venture. It would have made the proceedings a lot more complicated.

Germany had asked Romano to meet him at a café in town. Somewhere public, in the hopes that whatever reaction Romano would have would be lessened. Italy certainly didn't give Germany any sort of confidence that this plan was going work. However, as Germany waited at one of the tables at the café, it was a bit too late to turn back.

As to be expected, Romano charged in, ringing the bell hanging from the door violently, sat down at Germany's table, and stared hard at him as if trying to kill him with a look. Germany would never put it past that Italian for sure. Just in case. "So," Romano said after an uncomfortable amount of time staring, "What the fuck do you want, potato bastard?"

All pre-planned introductions to the subject flew out of Germany's mind. Italy did make one recommendation before Germany left that he was about to go with now. To speak from the heart and frankly. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Romano's hard look continued to persist. "Why do you care?"

"…because I am dating your brother, and we are going to be seeing each other a little more often because of that. Anything you have against me, I would like to have out in the open. I would like to know."

Romano groaned. "And there's no way I can just change the subject."

Germany shook his head.

"Alright, fine. Besides what happened during WW2… you just remind me of this one asshole a long time ago who broke my brother's heart. He wrote these sobbing letters to me for a long time after that, and it was really annoying, and I wanted to murder the guy for just ditching him only to find out he died before I could get to him."

Germany knew that Romano had to be talking about Holy Roman Empire. "…what would you do if he was still alive?"

"Probably strangle him and give him what he deserves. But again, he's dead. And why do you care so much? Aren't you always looking forward and don't care about the past."

"I don't like talking about the past. That doesn't mean I don't care." Germany braced himself to be strangled. "I asked you here because I thought it would be a good idea to clear the air before the party. I know you are talking about Holy Roman Empire, and the reason I look a lot like him is because I am him."

Romano stared at Germany dumbfounded. "You're kidding. You have to be. Veneziano would have known if you were right off the bat."

"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly tell anyone because I didn't think it mattered. I was extremely wrong."

Germany couldn't tell how much Romano actually believed him. In all his memories, he didn't really have any of a younger Romano, save for what Italy said. Eventually, Romano stood up from his chair and slapped Germany hard in the face. Germany's cheek stung, but it wasn't the worst he had ever felt.

"Feel better?" Germany asked.

"Fuck no. Does Veneziano know?"

"Yes, he knows. He was helping me regain my memories."

Romano tsked. "No fucking wonder he wanted to stay." He leaned back against his hair and scowled harder.

Germany couldn't help but wonder what was making Romano quiet. He expected for this Italian to be shouting and ranting on and on. Yet, there he was, silently seething more than usual. "Do you believe me?"

"That remains to be seen," Romano hissed, "Just fucking promise me you won't make Veneziano cry again. Or I will tear your head off."

The fierceness of the threat made Germany nod. He certainly wasn't about to test how far Romano would follow through. Though, considering the size difference between the two of them, Germany was pretty sure he could handle himself with whatever Romano could possibly throw at him.

"What the fuck even happened?" Romano asked, still trying to wrap his head around the new fact he just received.

"I… well, I came very close to dying, but somehow survived. Gilbert found me, took care of me, and I gained a new identity as Germany during the unification effort Gilbert went through."

Romano continued to stay quiet, but started to look less annoyed. "We… well, I don't know if Veneziano ever told you, but when our countries were being unified into one Italy, we were all wondering if there was going to be a new person for that shit and if we'd all die. And then all of a sudden, Veneziano takes up a flag and starts going off to revolution and inspiring everyone." Romano stared off into space for a moment, recalling all the different memories related to this. "And he took the name Italy. Like, sure, he used it even before then, but that was with other nations… not with us."

"You still call him Veneziano."

"Because regardless of everything, he still is. His heart still belongs to Venice, not Rome. And that's why I'm still around." Romano sighed heavily. "Thanks, I'm now feeling things."

"No offence, I think you did that on your own."

Romano threw his head back. "Why even tell me? Surly Veneziano told you I hate Holy Roman Empire."

"Because I'm wearing that old uniform for the party and I didn't want you to strangle me."

Romano unexpectedly laughed out loud, making Germany hesitate. "You're actually scared of me?"

"…yes…"

For the first time that Germany could recall, Romano actually smiled at him. It wasn't a kind smile to be sure, more of an amused grin. "I guess we're even then." With that, Romano stood up and walked out of the café, the bell ringing once again announcing his presence being gone.

Germany sat there, blinking, wondering what the hell that was all about.

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Despite what most people think, Russia did want to like America and be friends with him. Not in the buddy-buddy way that America liked being friends with people, because Russia found that a bit tiring from that guy. No, he wanted to be friendly rivals with America. Cold war style thing, without the threat of world balance there. At most, the threat of a food fight; no one gets killed with that sort of thing.

As Canada promised, he took Russia up to the waterfall, and much to his surprise, America came along as well. The American didn't like the fact that Russia was there, but he stayed along. There wasn't any snow on the ground, however it was a bit icy from the rain. Climbing up on ice isn't a pretty thing, however with every step that Russia took, he thought how fun it was going to be sliding down. Not as fun as it would be had there been snow for a snow ball fight.

"How much further is it?" America whined. He was trailing behind Russia and Canada.

"We still have a ways to go," Canada responded, looking behind at America, "It isn't that far, but because of all the ice, it's a bit of a hike."

Russia could hear America mutter something to himself, but not well enough to hear what it was. "Why did he come along?" Russia asked. He was mostly curious, considering that America seemed to be in a grumpy mood.

Canada sighed heavily, which had to mean it was a good story. "Alfred wanted to spend time with me and had it in his head that I promised to hang out with him today. I didn't, and he wouldn't stop pouting about it. I told him he could come along on our adventure today, just so that he could shut up. I'm sorry."

"It is not your fault. I just wish there was snow instead of ice."

"It certainly would make the journey a little easier."

After walking a bit further, America piped up again. "Why does it have to be so cold?"

"Maybe you should have worn a warmer coat." Canada raised an eye brow at his brother.

There was one thing that Russia took notice of, and it wasn't the coat that would have suited America better during the fall. It was the gloves. They didn't look warm and Russia wondered if America's hands were turning blue.

"It didn't look that bad out."

"Look, if you're cold, you can head back and get warm again." Canada stormed off ahead.

There was something going on with those two, but Russia wasn't sure what it was. He noticed it a little at the past world meeting, however it seemed to have gotten worse. And that is a problem, considering Canada and America usually get along decently well. He hoped it was personal, and only that. Personal meant no war would come of it. In theory.

They finally get to the top, where the waterfall was. The top of the river was frozen, however water still ran beneath it. It hadn't been too cold for that long. From the edge of the cliff, Russia could see the valley and the river beyond, winding through the mountains around. With everything being covered in ice, it truly was a magical sight. It was all outlined in shades of white and would certainly sparkle if the sun was out. Breathtaking, regardless of the cold air pressing all around them.

"This place must look amazing in the spring time," Russia said, once the stun of the beauty around him wore off, "Especially with the flowers blooming."

"And when it's not fucking cold," America muttered.

Canada walked carefully to the edge of the cliff to get a look at the waterfall. "It's so weird that the water hasn't all completely frozen over," he remarked, completely ignoring America.

"Have you seen that before?" Russia asked America.

America shrugged, glaring away from the people around him. "Look, I really don't want to be here right now," he said when Russia asked if he was ok.

"Then why did you come?" Canada asked, turning his head at his brother.

"Because you promised."

Canada looked like he was going to boil over, something that Russia never really saw, even on the hockey rink. "I didn't. I don't…" Canada was going to walk right up to America, however he lost his footing and slipped off the cliff.

Russia didn't know what to do. He didn't know where Canada would end up, and with the ice being everywhere, rushing anywhere would only lead to getting majorly hurt. He turned to look at America, however that nation was no longer there. He was rushing to the edge of the cliff, and also slipped, tumbling over the edge. Being very careful, Russia looked over the edge and saw that America was flying, with red, white, and blue wings made of sparkling energy. America dived down, and grabbed Canada in mid-air. Russia had no idea that America could do something like that. It was incredible.

It took Russia a while to get to the bottom of the cliff using the conventional safe method. When he got there, America was gone, and Canada was sitting by the edge of the river, rubbing his mitted hands together.

"What was that?" Russia asked the Canadian, "I didn't know Alfred could fly."

"Honestly," Canada said, "I didn't know either… I'm a little worried."

"Why? I thought it was rather cool."

"Sure it was… but… well, you've seen the gloves he's be wearing? Those are supposed to keep him from doing stuff like that. And he had those gloves on the whole time. I think whatever magic was in them is starting to wear off…"

"And that's a bad thing?" Russia didn't entirely get it, but figured that Canada knew a lot more than he did.

Canada nodded. "I just hope it will last a little while longer, just enough to see him home safely."

Russia nodded. "If there is one thing I know Alfred has a lot of, it's luck."

88888

Finland finally caught England alone. For a nation that for years bragged about his "splendid isolation", he stayed with at least one other person for company for most of the time he had been in Lauterbrunnen. Which was slightly annoying because he wanted this to be kept as private as possible. So, seeing England alone, Finland immediately pulled him aside.

"What?" England asked, highly confused.

"It's concerning Sealand and the trial."

England scoffed. "He cannot be serious about that."

"He is. I would think you would know that he is very serious about anything that would prove his nationdom."

"So what?"

"You need to talk to him about it. And you need to take it seriously."

England sighed heavily. "It's just a seabase."

"And to Sealand, it is everything. Whether or not you want to claim that base is besides the point. That is your business. But for Peter, you need to take it seriously."

England gritted his jaw silently. "Where is he? If this is going to happen, we might as well do it right."

The two of them found Sealand in the party hall, where the micronation crew are practicing dancing. They took Sealand to a smaller room and Finland closed the door.

"I know I have asked this a lot in the past, however because of recent events, I need an actual answer from you," England said dead serious, "What makes a nation a country?"

Sealand was still confused about being taken away from his friends, and even moreso with the question England just asked him. "It's when people live in a place together."

England pursed his lips. "And?"

Sealand shrugged. Finland expected as much. He was still a child.

England sighed and took a few moments to think. "You need to think about that before the trial. I don't know if I will be arguing for your independence because I have to talk to the others about it, but if it does turn out that you will be independent, there will be a lot of eyes on you and a lot of responsibility put on your shoulders. I don't think you really understand what that means."

Sealand pouted. "I'm not a child."

"Regardless of how old you've been around, you are a child. I had been a child for a long time, longer than you have so far, before I started getting older. It's a fact, not an insult."

Sealand looked down, then over to Finland for a moment. "This was what you were talking about, weren't you?"

Finland nodded.

Sealand looked disappointed to say the least, but he nodded and took leave.

"I…" England started to say once Sealand was gone, "…I wasn't too harsh, was I?"

"I think… I've been talking with him about it for the past few months. You were direct, and I think that is what he needed."

"You couldn't get him to come to sense?"

"It's not coming to sense so much as it is understanding the situation." Finland's eyes hardened. "Surely you thought of the world differently when you were a child?"

England did not answer out loud, nor was Finland expecting him to do so. It was more of a reminder.

"Thank you for talking with him. Honestly, I wish you would do it more. I think it would do Peter some good. He does admire you."

"I highly doubt that."

"There are many ways of admiring a person. Surely Alfred has taught you that." Finland turned to walk out the door.

"Wait…" England stood up and stood next to Finland. "I was… this is merely a suggestion, and the other guardians would have to be talked to about it too, but maybe it would be a good idea for at least Sealand to go and visit with America's states. After all, they too had a period of time where their own futures were uncertain."

Finland thought about it. While it was true that America had a whole war concerning his independence from England, he never realized that there was more at stake than just America's existence. Most of the time, Finland forgot that there were even personifications of the different sections of America's country. "Do you think it would help?"

"I wouldn't recommend it if I didn't think so, especially with that lot."

"It would make for a good field trip with all of Peter's friends. I'll talk with the others and see what they think about it." After all, the best feeling in the world is knowing that someone has been in your shoes before and made it through.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. The next one will come in 2 weeks on Friday. I wasn't able to get all of the stuff written as I would have liked, and thusly I am surrounded by pages of drafts for this as well as my personal stuff, which I am working to publish in the nearish future. More on that once I can actually see a real date for getting that out. In the meantime, if you like what you have read, please comment.


	8. Chapter 8

For the whole day, Wales had this uneasy feeling in the back of his head. He wasn't sure why, and that made him all the more nervous. It certainly wasn't over the party, since the past few days had been quite uneventful… besides the near scare Canada had. He was fine, however there was concern about America's wild magic. Wales didn't see much need for concern only because there was a bunch of other magic users going to be at the party.

No, the growing concern was the building up of a storm that had been going on the whole day. The sky was dark and due to how cold it had been, meant they would be getting snow, possibly a lot of it. It was bad enough for him not to be able to focus on his book. Not that he cared so much at that point anyway. Wales usually enjoyed reading the tales of King Arthur that people would make up. However in light of Excalibur being missing and possibly in the hands of someone else made him anxious. It was a magic sword after all, and it had a will of its own.

"Dylan!" Australia swung into the common area, holding onto the frame for support. "I need advice."

Wales closed his book, grateful that someone will relieve him of his building thoughts. "What seems to be the problem?"

"It's Lindsay. I think she can use magic."

This of course peaked Wales' interest. "And what makes you say that?"

"Marvin has been having a tough time recently. His boss has been in the hospital and things haven't been good. Lindsay has been there for him, and the other day, said that she may have accidentally seen a dream of his about what's been going on. She's freaking out, and I don't know how to help her."

There was always the small detail that Wales never understood was how Australia, Canada, and America all had magic. They were all adopted; they were all from places not of the Celtic Isles. And yet, still had these abilities. "I will admit, I am surprised that someone so young and new has magical abilities. Has anything like this happened to her before?"

"Not that I know of. Not with her. I know Marvin is more sensitive to people than most… I think people call it being an empath. Is that magical?"

"Not in particular. Though I would have to see it for myself." Like most things, empaths run on a spectrum. Wales took a moment to contemplate on the matter, and really thought about all of what he heard about magic over the years. The Celtic Isles were not the only place where magic had been reported to be sighted, and Norway knew how to use it as well as Romania. Not that Wales ever talked to them about it; he heard it mostly from England. What if… was it possible that all nations had the ability to use magic and just needed the right push in order to use it? That certain nations could use it because of the influence from their people? That would make sense in the case of the Celtic Isles, but what about these young nations? They belonged in a world without magic. Something was stirring, and Wales didn't like the thought of it. "Keep an eye on it for now. As for Wy's sanity, she might find it useful to meditate before bed in order to clear the mind. That should help for the time being until we really know what this is. It's a shame that she didn't come to this."

"I kinda had my boss to worry about. And Lindsay wouldn't leave Marvin behind and he wouldn't have come. What exactly should I be looking for?"

"You know the accidents that seem to be happening around America? The sparking that Canada keeps talking about and random happenings? That. If that doesn't happen, I wouldn't worry about it unless it distresses Wy."

"And then I call you?"

Wales nodded. "As for Hutt River, regardless of what happens, he should do something fun once there is a resolution to the situation he is in. A vacation."

"Well, Finland was saying how it might be a good idea for the micronations to visit America and take in the sights there. Hear some stories from the states."

This peaked Wales' interest. "That might be good, if only to visit a different place. And I'm sure America would love to talk about his many escapades… though in the current condition he is in…" Wales trailed off as a vision suddenly passed over his eyes.

_Wales looked through a computer screen where Sealand and Wy were on the other side, looking intently back, like they had just asked a question. The place they were in Wales recognized to be a house England had when he was running the American colonies. _

_ "Listen," Wales said, "What you are talking about isn't something you should be messing with. There are things in this world that should be left well enough alone, especially if you know nothing about them."_

_ "But we didn't want anything to do with this!" Wy said a little bit louder than would be deemed normal. "We didn't ask for this. We were at the wrong place at the wrong time and here we are." There were a few moments of silence before Wy added, "In theory."_

_ Wales sighed. They weren't telling him something and it made him worry greatly. "If we are to continue the "in theory" discussion, it all depends on what magical item it is. Does this thing talk?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ "And you didn't do anything to seal some sort of agreement?"_

_ Sealand and Wy looked at each other. Wy leaned back and rolled a little bit away from Sealand, looking extremely put off._

_ "Peter?" Wales hoped it didn't involve blood._

_ "Does taking something count?" Sealand asked slowly. Even from the light of the screen, Wales could see Sealand's face pale a great deal._

The vision faded before any more of the conversation could be had. Wales didn't like the sound of any of that, but had no real context. The only thing he really gleaned from it was that those two kids will get themselves into some deep trouble and felt like they couldn't tell anyone. Very much foreboding.

"You weren't kidding," New York said, grounding Wales in the present time, "He was seriously spacing out."

Australia was grinning, then noticed Wales. "Was that another vision?"

"Yes…" He contemplated for a moment telling Australia. Wales decided against it, only because he wasn't sure what good it would do. "Hello, New York."

"See, I've seen magic done, but Abigale has never looked possessed. Are you sure that's normal?"

Wales pursed his lips. "Yes, it is. This is why I don't drive if I can help it."

"Hey, this might be a good time to bring this up with you," Australia said, "How would you feel about hosting some micronations and telling them about your revolution?"

The eyes of New York suddenly had stars in them. "Hell yes. Do you know how long its been since we've had an audience listen to our story?"

Wales bet it was a long time.

"Oh, the others are going to be so excited. Because, of course, we have to have the original crew in on it. And where to start too, because there are so many different places that were important for that time." Wales always thought that New York was easily excitable, but this was on a different level. Perhaps, New York was just passionate. Wales gave himself a mental note to keep tabs on this little venture, considering where that last vision was from.

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Sealand, Kugelmugel, and Seborga watched the snowfall from a nearby window. It was whipping around violently as the wind was strong enough to rattle the roof above. There wasn't anything in the news about a blizzard; none of the three thought to ask Switzerland about it.

"I hope it doesn't snow too much," Seborga said, "Or it will be a bit tough for the party tomorrow."

"But the party is inside," Sealand said, "So we don't have to worry about snow."

"We still have to walk to get there," Seborga said.

Kugelmugel was sketching in their book with a random pen Sealand got for them. They really didn't like sketching that way since they couldn't erase lines, but it would do for the current moment. "We could go sledding," Kugelmugel suggested.

"Or we can build a snowman!" Sealand started getting really excited about it.

The lights in the room started to flicker, and so did the lights in the rest of the town. It was a really cool sight to watch, until all went pitch dark as the lights permanently turned off. The three micronations screamed, since none of them really liked the dark.

"Does someone have a mobile with them?" Sealand asked shakily, holding onto the nearest arm he could find.

"On the other side of the room," Seborga admitted, "If you let go, I can see if I can get it."

Sealand did so, bringing his arms around his knees for comfort. All was very quiet. There was no buzz of electricity or distant sounds of a tv from a nearby room. Just the sound of Seborga crawling on the carpet trying to remember where he put his phone.

"Do you need help, Seb?" Kugelmugel asked.

"Sure. I mean, I sort of remember where I put it but it is pretty dark."

The two of them fumbled around in the darkness looking for the phone. At some point, Sealand looked down at his hands, or at least pretended to in the complete darkness. If only one of them had a flashlight… or something that could emanate light. A small ball of it, just to cast away the darkness…

All of a sudden, a small ball made of pure blue light formed in Sealand's hands. The light wasn't all that bright, but being the only thing emanating anything, it illuminated the room enough for Seborga to spot his phone immediately.

"How did you do that?" Kugelmugel asked, getting closer to Sealand and his light.

"I don't know. I was just thinking how much easier it would be to find the phone if we had some light." The light wasn't warm, but it was oddly comforting.

"Well, we should be ok now, with that and my phone." Seborga turned on the flashlight function on his phone. "Why don't we see who else is around? Maybe someone can tell us what is going on."

"And has more light. Like candles!" Sealand scrambled up.

They all head out of the room and start walking in the hallway. No one else seemed to be on that floor, but there was a commotion downstairs. Raised voices muffled by carpet.

"That doesn't sound good," Kugelmugel said cautiously.

Sealand shrugged, "So we don't go downstairs then. But I am curious. I wonder what they're talking about."

Seborga stopped in his tracks, and put an arm out.

"What?" Sealand asked.

Seborga didn't say anything for a second before turning around and grabbing his friends shoulders. "Get down!" he said, and maneuvered himself to protect Sealand and Kugelmugel from the window.

An electric-filled current rocketed through the room from below and all the windows in the hallway shattered into pieces. The wind whipped in, no longer impeded by the glass barrier.

"How did you know that was going to happen?" Sealand asked, once the shock of what happened dissipated.

"I have no idea," Seborga admitted, "It just seemed to be the thing that was going to happen. I don't know. A lot of weird shit has been happening. It made sense."

"So you have a 6th sense now?" Kugelmugel asked.

Seborga shook his head. "If I did, I wouldn't be such a klutz."

A door opened up nearby, and Canada ran out, along with Eva. "Are you three alright?" he asked immediately, running to the micronations. Both he and Eva were carrying flashlights.

"No," Kugelmugel said.

"I mean, we could be worse," Seborga clarified, "What's going on?"

"That's what I'm worried about. I'm going to see what happened." Canada took off, running down the hall.

Eva looked out the window for a moment. The snow was starting to build up little by little inside. "Is this kind of thing normal with you all?" she asked slowly to the three micronations.

They simultaneously shook their heads.

"I don't know if I am relieved or more worried by that."

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Canada ran down the stairs, going through all the possibilities that could be waiting there. A few involving America, and he prayed he was wrong. That it wasn't his fault for being a suborn dumbass.

In the main entrance, along with broken shards of glass from not only the windows, but also the lightbulbs and other glass screens, were Mexico, Spain, England, Russia, and of course America. They all looked confused, and England looked downright scared.

"What the bloody hell was that?" he asked, turning to America.

America, for once, didn't say anything. He stood there, speechless, staring at his hands. The gloves he had been wearing were torn apart.

"Al…" Canada walked slowly up to his brother. "What did you do?"

America shook his head. "It wasn't me, I swear. The lights went out and we were trying to see what to do and…" America stopped talking.

Canada grabbed America's wrist and dragged him out of the lobby. He headed down a hallway, turned a corner, and put America against a wall. "What did you do? I can guarantee you that it wasn't England who broke all the windows, and the others can't use magic."

"I didn't want to do that! Look, we just kept talking around and around about what to do in the dark without doing anything. I was getting annoyed."

"And then you broke the windows."

"You make it sound like I wanted to. I didn't. There was just this… I don't know, discharge of energy and the windows broke and the gloves just… dissolved."

Canada gave a hard look at his brother, his anger rising. He continued dragging America to a very secluded part of the hotel. He was pissed off on several accounts, mostly because of what he was about to do with America. He didn't want to do it, but nothing else was being done.

"Bro, where are we going?" America asked, a little hesitantly. It certainly wasn't like him, but at that point, Canada didn't care.

"Here." Canada shoved America in a slightly bigger than average broom closet, then closed the door behind the two of them. It was dark and still a little cramped. "Give me your hands."

"What are you doing?"

"Just do it. Before I change my mind."

America raised his hands up. Canada took off what was left of the gloves, and took out a tieback he grabbed from upstairs earlier and started wrapping America's wrists in it. Nothing was said, but violet sparks danced around the wrappings. 'With this, I bind you so that others are no longer hurt,' Canada thought over and over again. Intent is the strongest bit of magic that can be cast. No words need to be said, so long as the intent was very clear. When Canada was done, he pulled the binding loose. For a moment, a glowing violet mark was left before fading altogether.

"What did you do?" America asked, flexing his hands.

"I bound your magic, because this is getting ridiculous. And don't thank me."

"Why?"

"Because what I did isn't permanent, and once it fades, your magic is going to explode. Figure out how to handle it before then."

"And how long will that be?"

Canada didn't answer, mainly because he had no idea. It could be a month or a few years.

"Matt."

"Alfred. This is serious. How many times do we have to tell you? You can't ignore this to hope it goes away. That's not how magic works." Canada opened the door. "I hope this put a little sense into you." He walked out, ignoring America's calls to come back. He wasn't in the mood to humor his brother.

"Is everything alright?" Mexico asked when Canada returned to the lobby. It was only then that the Canadian realized that he left America without a flashlight. He didn't feel all that bad about it at the current moment.

"It's fine," Canada said, trying not to be too bitter. "Eva and I were going to try to find a radio to get updates on the black out. The whole village is in the dark."

"That's relieving to hear," England said, "At least we aren't the only ones."

"I think I saw a radio somewhere around here…" Russia said, and he headed off to go look for it.

"Where did America go?" Spain asked.

Canada shrugged, and headed back upstairs.

"I'm going to go look for him," Mexico said, and he and Spain walked off.

"Matthew," England caught up with Canada, "What did you do to Alfred?"

"I bound him. I just… knowing how things can build, I didn't want to get anyone hurt on this trip. He can deal with any sort of consequences at home, not here in a distant country."

England took a moment to breathe. Canada could feel the thoughts going through England's mind. "Are you sure that's the only thing on your mind?"

"No, it's not. Gilbert being human is a bit disturbing, but there's nothing that can be done about that. And… something has Al spooked and he won't say anything about it. He originally came to see me to talk to me about something and then proceeded not to say anything about it. When I talked to James about it, he said that America hadn't been the same since coming home from visiting you." It frustrated Canada that he didn't know what had America bothered. He had a theory, but couldn't really do anything about it until America said something. And knowing America, that could be a very long time, since he was incredibly stubborn.

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Ireland had his fair share of broken glass, though usually it was the drinking kind, not the window kind. Not that he hadn't seen someone get thrown through a window at a bar because of drunk shenanigans. However, broken glass without alcohol involved was a new thing.

The cold wind wasn't a good feeling as Ireland cracked his knuckles and started gathering pieces of broken shards. Since the lights weren't back on yet, he might as well do something useful.

"This is going to take a while," Northern Ireland commented, as he gazed down the empty hallway of shattered glass.

"I bet, but do you have any other ideas?" Ireland asked, looking at his brother, "And please keep the light on this."

"Just be careful."

"You make it sound like this is the first time I've done this." Once enough glass was gathered, Ireland casted a spell to mend it all together and placed it back in the window frame. It was going to be a long night.

"…so it's like this down here too," said a quiet voice. The Irish twins looked up to see Japan walking down the hallway, flashlight in hand.

"There's another floor of this?" Northern Ireland asked.

Japan nodded. "We were all a bit shocked, but no one was in the hallway, so no one was hurt. We checked the upper floors already. I decided to look down here."

Another window got put up. "If only we had some other people to help…" Ireland said.

"I can see if the others want to help. I know Arthur knows how to do this kind of spell work and Dylan is just fantastic with magic."

Ireland nodded, and Northern Ireland ran off to get help. Ireland moved on to the next window.

"Do you know what happened?" Japan asked.

"No, but I have a theory. Namely America."

"How?"

"Well… recently America's magical ability got woken up and he hasn't been dealing with it properly. I can assume that it just exploded today and broke a bunch of windows."

Japan picked up one of the glass shards. "Why windows?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Another window got put up. "He doesn't have any control, so I really doubt he meant to destroy any windows."

A nearby door opened up, and Kugelmugel came out, clutching onto their notebook tightly. They closed the door behind them, and just stared at Ireland.

"Hello?" Ireland said, standing up.

"What are you doing?" Kugelmugel asked.

"Trying to fix the windows. It's going to be hard heating the place back up if there are no windows."

"How?"

Ireland demonstrated by making another window from the broken glass. "Like this. Magic makes things easier."

Kugelmugel looked down the hallway. "You have a lot of work ahead of you."

"I'm aware. I'll be getting some help soon enough."

"It may not be much, but I can gather up the glass," Japan suggested.

Kugelmugel took out a pencil from their pocket and stared at it with a wavering determination. Ireland had heard that this micronation was a bit of an odd one, so didn't let that bother him too much. Ireland continued onto the next window, gathering the glass required with Japan. Kugelmugel watched, then started doing the same thing with some different glass using the sketchbook to protect their hands. They then proceeded to make a circle around the broken shards. Nothing happened, except that a glowing circle now surrounded the pile of broken glass. It reminded Ireland vaguely of when Wales casted spells when they were all very young. Trying everything and getting nowhere.

"What are you doing?" Ireland asked.

"Helping."

"You just made a circle."

Kugelmugel stared at it.

"…but, it seems you can do magic. Is your pencil your wand?"

Kugelmugel nodded, then came up with an idea. Instead of saying their thoughts outloud, they grabbed their sketchbook and started drawing what the window was supposed to look like. As they finished, the glass shards melded together into a solid window. Kugelmugel smiled proudly, and looked at Ireland.

"That's impressive," Japan said.

"No kidding… how long have you been studying magic?"

Kugelmugel shook their head.

Ireland was even more impressed. Most people needed some sort of guidance when learning magic. Scotland was the only exception that Ireland knew about; Scotland didn't need much instruction, though he mostly just talked with the dead. Ireland knelt down so that he was eye-level with Kugelmugel. "Between you and me," he said quietly, "That's amazing. Most people have trouble controlling magic at first. You must be confident in who you are."

"Why is that?"

"Magic has always been extension of one's self. If you know who you are and are confident in that person, the magic you have is easier to control."

Kugelmugel looked at their pencil. "I can only do it with this. Does that count?"

"That's not a bad thing. Means you can walk away sometimes. I get visions on occasion, so I never can."

That made Kugelmugel think for a few moments. "Does that mean you don't like yourself? You are a nation."

Ireland leaned away. He honestly had to think about it. "The vision thing has always been uncontrollable. Some days are worse than others. It's something I've learned to accept." Though, as he said this, he realized he never leaned into these visions. They were always so painful… but what if he, instead of embracing for impact, leaned into them. Like lucid dreams. "It's neither here nor there."

Kugelmugel pointed at Ireland's head, which made that nation chuckle.

"Not literally," he said, shaking his head a little, "If you want to help, it would make this a lot easier."

"Considering there are a lot of windows here," Japan mused, looking up at the floor above them.

"Can you do magic?" Kugelmugel asked Japan as the three of them got to working on the broken windows.

"No," Japan said simply, "I never knew magic was real until I met England. He showed me what he could do and kept saying that there were fae creatures around my house."

"Let me guess, you can't see them," Ireland said.

Japan shook his head. "But after talking a bit about what England saw, I believe he must have seen some mythological creatures from stories in my country. Kappas. Yokai. I couldn't believe it at first, but, especially knowing him now, there was no way Arthur could have known about what he saw. It made me reconsider the stories I had heard from my people growing up. Not that I have seen these creatures ever, but it does explain why items go missing from time to time."

"So… does that mean the tatzelwurm exists?" Kugelmugel asked a little fearful.

"There are a lot of things in this world that exist," Ireland said, "But most of the time, as long as you don't bother them, they won't bother you."

* * *

**Author's Note: **This chapter was a lot of fun to write. In the next update, it's party time! It will be the last chapter of this story, but there will be one more story coming after this one (more on that in the next update). Until then, please comment. Next update will be in 2 weeks.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** I apologize for this being so late. I've been sick the past few weeks and focusing enough to get this chapter done wasn't about to happen. However, it is now done and ready to be shared. Enjoy.

* * *

It was a long night for everyone in Lauterbrunnen, waiting for the lights and the heat to turn back on. It was an even longer night for those at the hotel, considering many of the windows broke. France, along with Switzerland and Lichtenstien and the new bosses, made sure to keep the owners of the hotel busy with other important things so that the magically inclined people could get the windows repaired. Eventually, the power did come back and most people were grateful for just having the heat in the face of the cold storm. Come the morning, France decided to lie low for that day so that he wasn't completely exhausted for the party to come that night.

Around dusk, France put on his costume, a musketeer uniform he found folded up neatly in a chest at his house, and set out for Capsler Hall. He was early, but he did promise New York to be there for audio set up. Just to be another set of ears.

New York and Nevada, as well as most of those who planned the party besides Gilbert, were already at the hall, putting up the final decorations. New York immediately spotted France and ushered him over.

"Dude, you never gave me a song suggestion," New York playfully pouted, "Couldn't think of anything good?"

"Non, I always have a song to suggest. I figured that since this is for Canada, Australia, and Switzerland, that they could make the recommendations. Next time, though, I will give you a few."

"Part of Canada is French."

"Yes, but he has a different dialect of it." Something that France could never really change, despite his best efforts. There was enough overlap to understand each other, but there were a few words that would catch him off guard. England was the same way when talking to Australia… actually any English speaker was like that when talking to Australia. For the first time, France noticed the costume that New York was wearing: clothing straight for the colonial period. "Now, the real question here is is that real or did you make that recently?"

"Nope. One hundred percent straight from the 1700s. Same with Lucky's, though that one is borrowed from Georgia."

France looked over at Nevada, who was setting up a microphone. "How does it feel?"

Nevada shrugged. "Not exactly my style. But, New York wanted to go as a theme. America is in his first uniform… minus the rifle."

"Took James forever to find it," New York added in.

"It doesn't help when it is buried in a crate in the back of the storage closet. It should be in a wardrobe at least, or displayed somewhere. It's ancient."

"And fragile. I had to patch up a sleeve because it got a bit damaged."

France couldn't help but chuckle a bit. As much as New York had always been a gossiper, the whole sewing thing was new. It happened when Broadway started being a big place for plays. New York was absolutely addicted to the scene.

"Oh, look, it's the Brit," New York said, smirking.

Turning around, France immediately spotted England, in a navel uniform of all things. "I thought you would be Sherlock Holmes," France commented.

England did not look pleased at either accusation. "No, because then I would have to wear a godawful costume the whole night. And I'm not Britain anymore."

"And you are still a stick in the mud. Lighten up."

England rolled his eyes. "At least the captain's outfit is tasteful for a party."

"You certainly look good in it," France said, "I do think I remember a time when I asked for a dance at a dinner party with you in that outfit."

England blushed a little. "And you completely forgot that we were in the middle of a war too. My god, we shocked everyone in that room."

France laughed, "And you didn't refuse."

"How could I with how confident you were that we had never met before. You made me second guess everything."

"Get a room," New York said, smirking and playfully rolling his eyes.

Some more people walked in, mainly the bosses, America, and… France's face fell to shock. Standing next to America was Holy Roman Empire, in the flesh. He had a serious face, but that was not unusual for that nation from what France could remember.

"Who's that?" Nevada asked New York, looking confused.

New York shrugged. "Apparently someone that Al knows. Oh, I should get the music on."

"And we should probably head off the stage," England suggested to France, "I take it you know who America is with currently, yes?"

"It's that obvious, isn't it?"

"Mind enlightening me?" England asked as they walked to the middle of the room.

"That is Holy Roman Empire. He… honestly, I thought he died a long time ago. He certainly isn't a nation now."

"Well, I'm sure we will find out in due time," England said. "I'm sure Gilbert knows what this is all about and will explain when he comes in."

"Speaking of who," Poland came in from out of no where, putting his arms around France and England, "Where is he anyway? We were all supposed to be here early and he never showed up."

"Like that is anything new," England said annoyed, getting out of Poland's grip.

"I'm sure he just lost track of time from what happened yesterday," France said, "He should be coming in any time now. Everything is set up, so why not enjoy the night?"

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Gilbert finished putting in his contacts before shoving on the wig for the party. He was glad the day finally arrived, because he had been wanting to do this ever since the idea came into his head. He looked at himself in the mirror, and brushed back the wig hair so that it looked nice and neat. It was creepy how much he looked like Germany. For a moment, he regretted his decision in doing this, like he disappeared completely. Shaking his head, Gilbert pulled himself together. He was going to have fun with this.

Gilbert headed over to Italy's room to get the Italian, hoping that he hadn't left yet. He wondered what Italy decided to wear since the Italian told no one but Kugelmugel, and the micronation had said nothing about the costume. He cleared his throat and knocked on the door the way he had heard his brother do so many times.

The door opened, and for a moment, Gilbert was brought back a few centuries. It was Italy at the door, wearing the maid's outfit that he wore as a child, though it was made to fit him properly at his current body build.

"Ludwig," Italy said, not at all impressed by what the Italian assumed to be Germany in a nice suit, "You promised that your costume wasn't boring."

It took all of Gilbert's will power not to burst out laughing. "I'm sorry. It got ruined and I didn't have anything else."

Italy immediately went to grab cat ears and stuck them on top of Gilbert's head. "And don't take them off."

"I won't, I promise." Though, Gilbert did want to make sure he got a picture at some point of the look, just for Germany. "Shall we get going? I don't want to be late."

Italy beamed. "Of course, captain."

It made Gilbert feel better, knowing that Germany finally had love in his life, and it was from someone who was always active. Italy would keep Germany on his toes constantly. And this was only a worry for Gilbert because how much of a lover Germany was.

It didn't take that much time to walk over to Capsler Hall. The whole way, Gilbert held Italy so that he wouldn't fall on the ice. It would have been romantic, if it was Germany instead of Gilbert. There were already a lot of people at the hall when they two of them showed up. The music was playing, and everyone seemed to be having a good time so far. Good, the party was so far a success.

"I want to have you for a dance," Italy said, "When a slow song comes on. And you can lead if you want."

"Nein," Gilbert said, trying to think of what his brother would say, "I'd rather follow you. You are the better dancer." He spotted Germany in the close-ish distance and said, "I'm going to see if I can find Gilbert. I'll be back, ok?"

Italy nodded, and started chatting with Mexico and Venezuela about their clothing.

Before Gilbert could hide in the crowd, Kugelmugel found him first. They had on a dress that, while wasn't anything historic, looked like they made themself. It was rather nice, and definitely depicted their love for art well. "I can't find Gilbert… where is he?"

Gilbert ushered Kugelmugel to the side, where Sealand and Seborga were hanging out, dancing to the music. "It's me. I'm Gilbert." He used his own voice, and took out one of the contacts just to show the micronation. "I'm dressed up as Ludwig right now."

"Why? Wouldn't people be confused?"

"That's the point."

"So, then, where is Ludwig?"

Gilbert pointed over to where Germany was standing, talking to Hungary and Austria. "That was his uniform when he was younger. He went by a different name at the time too."

"So, you wanted to see how many people would notice?" Seborga said, becoming interested in the conversation.

"Ja. Fun, isn't it?" He asked this more to convince himself, than the others.

Kugelmugel was not convinced at all. "I hope you brought something else."

Well, he tried.

"Ludwig," France hurriedly walked over to Gilbert, along with Canada, "Have you seen your brother anywhere."

Canada immediately noticed the contact being out. "Gil…" he said, raising an eyebrow.

Gilbert smiled sheepishly. "Please, spare the theatrics. Malleri already said that they didn't like the costume."

"Why don't we head back to the hotel and get you into something different? I know you brought your old uniform with you."

"You know me too well, Birdy."

"Before you go, Gilbert," France motioned to where Germany was, "Why is Holy Roman Empire here?"

"That's Germany," Kugelmugel said before Gilbert could respond.

"Yeah," Gilbert said, "What Malleri said. That's Ludwig, in his old uniform. You should go say hi."

France looked confused. "How?"

"It's a long story. Ludwig can fill you in, now that he remembers his own history. But make sure he finds Feli, ok?"

"Does he know?"

"He does."

"Good. I was worried what he would do if this was sprung on him without warning."

Gilbert laughed sheepishly and followed Canada out of the hall to get changed.

"Let me guess," Canada whispered to him, "You weren't going to tell Italy."

"I thought it would be a nice surprise for the party. But Francis is right. Feli would have freaked out." And that would have made a pretty bad disturbance at the party.

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As much as talking with Mexico and Venesuela was fun, Italy was a little worried about Gilbert, since Germany did bring it up. He apologized, and started looking for Gilbert and Germany, wherever they could be.

Italy suddenly bumped into someone who was rather tall. He looked up, about to apologize for not looking where he was going. Two beautiful sapphire eyes looked down on him in about as much surprise as he was looking up at them.

"Feli." This individual said, in the same exact way as Germany would when Italy would surprise him from out of nowhere. Then, he smiled and laughed a little. "Of course you would wear that for the party. Is this what you've been working on for the past few weeks?"

Italy's eyes grew wide. This is Germany… then who took him to the party. "Yes, it is… how the hell did you change so quickly? And did you find Gilbert?"

Germany raised an eyebrow. "I didn't? And no? Is he ok?"

"But you walked me here."

"That wasn't me… I did tell you before that I was going to come ahead of you to speak with a few people before the party got started."

Italy took a moment to think about it. "No… you didn't tell me."

"…sorry. I figured it would have been obvious when Gilbert went to collect you for the party."

It was then that it clicked for Italy what happened. "Then there are two of you at this party. Gilbert is dressed to look like you in a modern suit… I also kinda put cat ears on him, but that's because I thought he was you and that you had a really uncreative costume on."

"To be fair… this was Gilbert's idea. My costume… but his as well. We should go find him, though, and clear up any confusion he has caused."

Italy took Germany's hand, then wrapped an arm around his boyfriend's arm. His initial thought was how weird this all was, how the two of them were back together in the clothes they wore as children. They have walked many paths since that time, and yet, their paths had crossed no matter the distance between them. He had heard stories of kindred spirits, people being reborn time and time again and always finding each other. The most popular stories were those of lovers, but they certainly weren't the only ones. Italy never really believed the stories that much, until now.

The two of them walked around the hall, looking for Gilbert who was no where to be seen. At one point, France stopped them. Italy did a curtsy. "It's been a long time since you've worn that outfit," he remarked to France, who looked rather uncomfortable.

"It had it's time a long time ago. It's nice to have it see the light again." He looked between Italy and Germany. "It is good to see you two together like this."

"Francis, we've been partners in crime for a long while," Italy pointed out, though he could surmise what France meant.

France leaned over to Germany and whispered something in his ear. Germany heard whatever it was and said in reply, "What's done is done, and I have left that behind. Surely you can do the same."

France seemed to regain himself again, and told the pair to enjoy the rest of the party.

"What was that about?" Italy asked.

Germany shook his head. "Let it go."

"Yeah, but I'm curious now."

"Leave it."

Italy pouted but did as he was told. He could get France to tell him later.

Italy and Germany eventually ran into Kugelmugel and the other micronations, who seemed to be having a good time with their own company. "Have you seen Gilbert?" Germany asked Kugelmugel.

"He went to get changed," Kugelmugel said simply.

"Aren't you two going to dance?" Seborga asked, completely cutting off the conversation.

"Maybe later," Germany said.

"Definitely later," Italy corrected him.

"But later. It's more important that we find Gilbert."

"He'll be fine though," Sealand said, "Wasn't Canada with him?"

Seborga and Kugelmugel nodded, but Kugelmugel still looked a little worried.

"Well, if Matthew is with him," Italy said, walking a little away from the micronations, "Then it should be ok. He'd let us know if something happened."

Germany breathed and thought about it for a few moments. "I suppose you are right," he eventually said, "Maybe I am worrying too much."

"Regardless of everything, he would want us to enjoy the party."

The song changed, and the lights actually dimmed a little. The song was a slow love song that was popular a while ago. Italy looked at Germany, giving him a "can we please dance" smile. Germany obliged and took Italy's hand.

They danced, but it wasn't anything like ballroom dancing or anything that organized. It was a kind of dance that mostly was the two of them enjoying each other's company. "You still dance with two left feet," Italy said in the middle of the song.

"Maybe we should do this more often," Germany said, then he started blushing.

"You know me, I love dancing."

Germany just smiled.

The two of them turned in the dance, and Italy got a good look at the door. Canada was there, along with Gilbert who was in an old Prussian uniform. He grinned and gave Italy a thumbs up.

"Looks like we don't have to worry about Gilbert," Italy said, directing Germany's attention to the door.

The German let out a long, relieved sigh.

88888

Natnael stepped outside, breathing in the cold winter air. It wasn't that he wasn't enjoying the party. He certainly was, and had met so many different people. He even finally understood a bit more of Australia's demeanor if that guy had to deal with all those people on a regular basis. But, he once again felt like an observer to a world he didn't really belong in, regardless of how much Australia wanted it to work. This was his world, not Natnael's.

"Going for a smoke?" Livio, also coming outside asked, motioning a pack of cigarettes over.

Natnael shook his head. "Not my thing."

Livio shrugged, and took a drag.

"I was a little worried yesterday when the power went out," Natnael said, "That maybe this wouldn't happen."

"I'm sure someone would find a way to put it on. That Gilbert guy probably would have done something. Maybe gather as many candles as he could find and we would all just have to hold our own light."

"That would be fun," Natnael offered, "Though it wouldn't be all that safe." He did notice a few people leaning towards klutziness.

Eva popped out and joined the other two bosses in the night air. "I will say," she began after a few moments of silence, "That knowing this will make certain meetings a little clearer."

"And more entertaining," Livio added, smiling a little, "Concerning how world powers go."

Natnael didn't add anything at first. "Maybe. But, they did entrust us with this knowledge, whether it be because of duty or that they do trust us. Do you two ever have the feeling that the world is building up to something?"

Eva immediately agreed. "The people are moving for change. Everyone wants things to happen now, and, well, change can't happen that fast. It's not that I want things to stay as they have been. It's just… lasting change takes time." She sighed.

Livio glanced back at the building. "How much do you all want to bet there are a few people in there who agree with that?"

Both Eva and Natnael looked at Livio, then Eva raised a hand. "America, for sure, would."

"Anyone who was under Britain's rule would too," Natnael agreed.

The door opened up again, and Switzerland came out. "We are having a special presentation for the three of you as well as recognizing those who helped put on the party," he explained.

"We'll come inside," Livio assured him. Switzerland went back into the building. "Well?"

"You know," Natnael said as the three of them walked back into the party hall, "If nothing else, I think the best part of this whole thing was meeting the two of you." And he meant that full heartedly.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Some fun facts - the very original, like first draft original, deal with Gilbert going as Germany for the party and Germany going as Holy Roman Empire was to tell Italy that hey, HRE is alive. However, when writing the scenes up originally, it didn't sound right and the more I thought about it, the more jarring it would have been for Italy. So the idea changed, but I still like the idea of Gilbert going as his brother, so I kept that in there and decided to self-roast the original idea. XP Also, Seborga got New York to change the song to a love song just so that Germany and Italy could actually dance at some point. It wasn't the only love song of the night, but it was the first. And the song was "A Thousand Years" because I think it is a very fitting song for the two of them.

This brings us to the end of this story. But of course, we have some things that have to be answered, mostly magic stuff. America's magic, the micronations having magical abilities, and there is a magic sword somewhere that Wales is concerned about... plus, there has to be a resolution to Canada and America's relationship and not to mention a field trip with the micronations to the US to hang out with the states. The next and final story in this series of fanfiction tales is _Excalibur's Test_. I'll have a prologue posted soon (hopefully tomorrow, I doubt I can do it tonight before D&D). As for the first chapter update, that is going to be a while, considering the other projects that I have to work on. It all depends on how much trouble writing Massachusetts is going to be, since she can be exceedingly stubborn (and I say this lovingly because she is my state and I do love her).


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